"The Rooster" was another curiosity. His body was the body of a child, his face was the face of a lad; but his knowledge of the world, and the racing world in particular, could only have been gained in generations of experience. A great love for Tommy Dodd, and an intense hatred for the before-mentioned Mr. John Medway, of Barcoola Station, were among other of his peculiarities.
Now it so happened that after Jack Medway was appointed manager of Barcoola, he fell in love. I don't push this forward as anything extraordinary; but, as the statement of the fact is necessary to the proper narration of this story, I am bound to repeat, Jack Medway was in love, and Gerty Morris was the object of his affection. He also respected a dashing widow, named Leversidge.
The trouble dates from the issue of the first advertisements in connection with the Barcoola Races. At this yearly festival every owner, manager, jackeroo and rouseabout, within a hundred miles of the course, makes it a point of honour to be present. Then, for the space of a week, life is one whirl of shows, picnics, dances, and meetings. But above all the races reigned supreme.
One Sunday afternoon in Dr. Morris's verandah The Ladies' Bracelet was discussed, and Gerty Morris half hinted that Medway should enter a horse for it in her name. Naturally he jumped at the chance, and after summing up the strength of the most likely entries, cast about him for a nag.
(At this point the curtain should fall upon Act I., with rosy limelight effects, suggestive of Dawning Love and High Ideas.)
When an owner runs a horse to suit his book he should not grumble if his method is discovered; for stewards do sometimes see crooked running, and when they do they are apt to make things troublesome for that owner. Perhaps the proprietor of Tommy Dodd had met with some misfortune of this sort, for that sagacious animal suddenly disappeared from the southern racing world, and was seen therein no more.
A month later a mob of horses came up to Queensland, and at the sale a long, lolloping chestnut gelding, name unknown, was knocked down to Medway for twenty pounds. Though he was not aware of the fact, he was now the owner of the famous Tommy Dodd.
After the sale, driving home from the township, Beverley, of Kimona, nearly annihilated a drunken atom lying on the track. He picked him up and drove on. Next day, ascertaining that he possessed racing experience, he put him on to exercise The Gift. The Gift was his entry for The Bracelet, under the nomination of an unknown Alice Brown, in whom everybody, of course, recognised the before-mentioned Miss Gertrude Morris. That atom was "The Rooster," who had followed Tommy Dodd from the south. And here again Fate played up against Jack Medway.
(Curtain on Act II.: subdued lights and music suggestive of much Mystery.)