Thus he thought; and all night he dreamed of the race and the woman he loved.
When he reached the track in the early morning, he saw a boy run out of one of the stables, jump into a buggy with a man and drive away.
“Where’s the jockey?” he asked.
“Just left, sir,” said the groom.
“Has he been here both days?” he inquired.
“No sir.”
“Why?” and Emory grew pale with anger.
“Peleg reported him sick, sir.”
“Stuff!” muttered the owner; “but I trust he’s all right now.”
“I think so, sir,” said the man, “for he rode like a major to-day.”