Josiah, evidently flattered by the opportunity to serve royalty, stepped to the heads of the span. Esther, left alone, tried her best to appear unaware that she was the center of interest for all in the vicinity. Varunas hastened back to the track and clambered aboard the sulky.
The interview between Townsend and Captain Snow was apparently a lengthy one. The former did not return “pretty soon” as he had promised. Esther, looking out over the crowd, saw a number of acquaintances, boys of her own age. Some of them nodded, one or two hailed her. There was Tom Doane, who clerked in Kent’s General Store and drove the delivery wagon. The wagon was standing not far away, its horse hitched to a post. Evidently Mr. Kent’s customers would be obliged to wait for their purchases until the race was over. Frank Cahoon was with young Doane. Frank, having finished school, was about to leave Harniss for Boston, where he had a position with a firm of shipping merchants. With them was a third young fellow whom she did not know. The trio were looking at her and apparently considering coming over to speak. Just then, however, her Uncle Millard came bustling up to the dog-cart and she turned her attention to him.
Mr. Clark was ablaze with excitement and importance. He leaned an elbow upon the side of the dog-cart and chatted, quite conscious that people were watching him, and glorying in his place in the sun.
“Well, Esther,” he proclaimed, “this is a great day for us, ain’t it? We’re goin’ to come out all right, you wait and see. Cap’n Foster knows what he’s about and I tell folks so. Some of ’em try to let me think Claribel hasn’t got more than an outside chance, but I laugh at ’em. ‘You leave it to us,’ I tell ’em. ‘We know a thing or two.’ That’s so, too; isn’t it, eh?”
Esther regarded him rather coldly. All of the bystanders were listening, she knew, and some were nudging each other and grinning. She did wish that he would not speak so loudly.
“That’s so, ain’t it?” repeated Mr. Clark.
Esther’s reply was non-committal.
“Perhaps so,” she answered. “I don’t know what you know, Uncle Millard. Has Uncle Foster told you about it? He hasn’t told me anything.”
Some of the grins became laughs. Before Millard could frame a satisfactory reply a voice from the track saved him the trouble by furnishing an excuse for departure.
“They’re gettin’ ready to start,” he announced, hastily. “I must be goin’. I’ll see you and Cap’n Foster after we’ve won. So long.”