They had now lost all hold over Moordown; and the three men were so stunned it was a short time before either spoke. Sir Hew was the first to open his mouth.
"Where on earth did he get the money?"
"Who could have found such a large amount in a night? It must have been the duchess. They do say she is sweet on him," muttered Platt.
"Nonsense! I don't believe a word of it; but where the cash came from is a mystery," said Sir Hew.
"Will this talk help me to get back the money I have overlaid against Highdrift?" asked Platt's friend. "A pretty book I have got to square."
"The race is not yet decided," replied Sir Hew, looking much perplexed, "and if I cannot win somebody else will have a difficulty. One moment, Platt—your friend won't mind"—taking Platt to the window, and whispering: "You know Airton; he is a certain starter, but has not the ghost of a chance. He is not particular what he does, and there is an old feud about a girl between him and Moordown. You must manage to give him a hundred to get in the way of Highdrift. That is the best I can suggest. Two of us ought to be able to stop the brute."
Most great races are run at three o'clock, and the Silver Gauntlet at Wincastle was no exception. At that hour the excellent field of thirteen placed themselves in the hands of the starter, who despatched them on their eventful journey at the second attempt.
As they streamed past the Grand Stand, crowded with all the beauty and aristocracy of the county, it was seen that Sir Hew Mainfly was leading, but that he could scarcely control the fractions Springtrap, and that Highdrift, with Moordown for his pilot, held a good position in the centre of the second lot close to Mr. Airton on his weedy thoroughbred Jasmine.
We who are behind the scenes know that Airton's proximity to Moordown bodes no good to the latter.