One by one they cantered past, and he watched them with a cold feeling in his stomach. Still unused to sight of the creatures out of which he made his living, they all seemed to him hells of horses!
The same voice said:
“New colours! Well, you can see ’em, and the mare too. She’s a showy one. Calliope? She’s goin’ back in the bettin’, though.”
‘Jimmy’ moved up through the Ring.
“Four to one on the field!” “Six Deerstalker!” “Sevens Magistrate!” “Ten to one Wasp!” “Ten to one Calliope!” “Four to one Diamond Stud—Four to one on the field!”
Steady as a rock, that horse of Jenning, and his own going back!
“Twelves Calliope!” he heard, just as he reached the stand. The telepathic genius of the Ring missed nothing—almost!
A cold shiver went through him. What had he done by his words to Docker? Spoiled the golden egg laid so carefully? But perhaps she couldn’t win even if they let her! He began to mount the stand, his mind in the most acute confusion.
A voice said: “Hullo, Jimmy! Is she going to win?”