Dangerous Dilemmas: Startling but True

by James Anderson Peddie

The only important alteration in the betting at the fall of the flag was the return of Highdrift to his old position of first favourite.

As he swung himself into the saddle, Moordown told Wardlock that he would make a waiting race of it, and let Highdrift do his best in the last two fields. He seemed to be quietly confident of the result, and he took all the chaff his friends gave him about the withered rose pinned to his jacket in good part.

There had been a heavy fall of rain during the night, and before half the three miles was covered the holding ground began to find out the weak points of many of the half-trained horses.

Springtrap was going in more sober fashion, but he was not by any means done with; on the contrary, he looked as formidable as anything, and now that he submitted to Sir Hew's guidance he possessed an undeniable chance. Sir Hew had wisely pulled him back to the second division, among which Highdrift and Jasmine were still running side by side.

So far, and it is nearly two miles, there have been no casualties, but they are fast approaching the big jump. A natural brook has been artificially guarded, and, judging from the number of people at the spot, some scrambling is expected. These waiters on accidents were not disappointed. Two or three of the first flight were too exhausted to clear the obstacle, and landed in the water, where they kicked and splashed, to the intense delight of the spectators.

As he neared the brook, Sir Hew Mainfly put on a spurt and left the company, and pulling his horse together landed him safely on the other side.

Watchers on the top of the Grand Stand offered to bet even money that they named the winner. They meant Springtrap, and it did look like odds on that horse, when Highdrift met with a check at the brook.

On nearing the water, Jasmine swerved right in front of Highdrift, and the result was a serious scrimmage, in which horses and men were on the ground together. Airton may have been earning his hundred or not, but he had bitter occasion to remember the accident; a kick he received when on the ground injured his spine, and he was doomed to be a cripple for life.

Moordown, who had stuck to his reins, was on his feet and into the saddle in a minute, and it required no persuasion to get Highdrift across to the right side. Valuable moments had, however, been lost, and there was now a considerable gap between him and Springtrap. He set his horse going in earnest, and soon passed the stragglers, and when he got into the second field from home he had everything beaten except Springtrap, on whom he did not appear to gain a yard.