He led the way to the scales, where Shirley was weighed.
“Ninety-eight,” said Mr. Willing, stepping back. “Good.”
The time came at last, and Shirley, seated firmly upon Gabriel’s back, rode slowly toward the barrier. Mr. Willing followed, giving last advice.
“Get away as well as you can,” he told her, “and give Gabriel his head. Under no circumstances use the whip. Let Gabriel run his own race.”
Shirley nodded her understanding of these orders, but made no reply. Mr. Willing stepped back and joined the others.
“I wonder where Shirley is?” he said.
“Oh, perhaps she stopped to talk to some one,” said Mabel quietly.
“Well, I guess she is safe enough,” said Mr. Willing. “Come.”
He led the way to the paddock and the others followed.
After some trouble they succeeded in gaining advantageous places, and turned their eyes toward the track. And at that moment a familiar voice near Mabel said: