Fast as the Wind: A Novel

by Nat Gould

All was bustle and excitement; the horses were being saddled for the great race, fifteen of them, a larger field than usual.

Ripon was a hot favorite, and it was probable he would start at two to one. He had been second to Snowball in the Derby, and ninety-nine out of a hundred people who saw the race vowed he was unlucky to lose, that his jockey rode a bad race on him, and came too late. Snowball broke down and was scratched for the St. Leger, so they could not fight their Epsom battle over again; even had this been the case Ripon would in all probability have been the better favorite. Bronze, Harriet, The Monk, Field Gun, Hot Pot, The Major, and Dark Donald, were all supported; a lot of money was going on Bronze. Tearaway had been backed at a hundred to five; when it was known Fred Erickson was not well her market position was shaken and she went out to thirty-three to one.

Fletcher Denyer was in the ring. Of late there had been some coolness between him and Lenise. He had no desire to lose her; as he saw her slipping away from him he became anxious to possess her altogether. He recognized at last that he was in love, that she was necessary to him, part of his life, that it would be very dull without her. Chance might put something in his way; he was a believer in luck. If only he could discover something about this man Rolfe, who had come between them. No one appeared to know anything about him. He had made inquiries in various quarters; William Rolfe had never been heard of. It seemed strange, a man with money too, and moving in racing circles, where people generally found out all about each other. Lenise Elroy had avoided him in the paddock, he saw it plainly; it angered him, but he had the sense to know he must not interfere but bide his time.

It was in an ill-humor that he went into the ring. He had been given a "great tip" about Bronze, and, as he was in funds for the time being, he determined to speculate above his average. Bronze was in a stable famous for great surprises. He was a horse that had shown good form but in the summer seemed to go all to pieces and was badly beaten at Ascot and Newmarket. There was, however, no doubt that he had been backed to win a huge fortune for the St. Leger. The famous Doncaster race, in this particular year, was the medium of some wild plunging which was reminiscent of twenty or thirty years before. At least six horses were backed to win fortunes. The plunging on Ripon was desperate, and on Bronze the money was poured like water. The Monk was backed to win many thousands, so were Harriet, Field Gun, and Hot Pot; Tearaway would take sixty thousand pounds or more out of the ring, at long odds, if she won. Small wonder the scene in Tattersalls was more animated than usual. The big bookmakers, aware of every move in the market, kept laying the favorite and others. Their wagers were framed on business lines: only one horse could win and they were taking hundreds on half a dozen or more; if an outsider came to the rescue they would land thousands—with one exception—this was Tearaway. There was hardly a well-known man in the ring who had not laid Picton Woodridge's filly almost to the extent of his book, and more money was coming on for her.

Fred Erickson mastered his feeling of faintness in wonderful fashion. His will helped him, he was determined, and as the time drew near for the race the excitement of the event kept him strung up to concert pitch.

Gradually the filly came back to her former position in the market, but twenty to one was freely offered against her: she was an unknown quantity and this did not augur well for her chance.

Hector went into the ring and put several hundreds on Tearaway; he was anxious to have a good win, and Picton was so sanguine of success.

Fletcher Denyer saw him and, following behind, heard him book several big wagers about Tearaway.

"He can't know much about it," he thought, "to back an outsider like that."

At the same time he was uneasy, for he had a lot of money on Bronze, and had put a saver on the favorite. William Rolfe had shown he was not a man to be taken in: Denyer found that out in one or two transactions he had with him.