"Mine?" Hansom asked.
"No; they are very nice. I was looking at that peculiar yellow jacket and red cap."
"They're Woodridge's colors—saffron, red cap. I don't think Tearaway has much chance, although I hear they have backed her for a large sum," he said.
So that was Tearaway! What a splendid black mare, and how well the colors of the racing jacket contrasted with her dark shining coat.
There was not much time for reflection; in a few minutes they were sent on their journey, getting off in an almost unbroken line, a splendid start.
Round the bend they swept, a moving mass of brilliant colors. The Major held the lead, stretched out to his full extent, half a dozen lengths in front; he was followed by Dark Donald, Bronze, Harriet, Ripon, The Monk, Field Gun, and Tearaway, the remainder well up.
The Major traveled at a great pace; it was to be a fast run race. He was a very fair horse, although not quite equal to staying the St. Leger course; as a matter of fact, he was out on a pace-making mission for Bronze. At the back of the course The Major still led, the others were creeping up. Harriet was now in second place, Ripon, and Bronze, racing together, Tearaway close behind them, level with The Monk.
The race became more interesting. All the well backed horses shaped well, and their numerous backers watched every move with interest.
Picton worked his way through the crowd and entered his box just before the start. Rita was all excitement; she said Torquay races were very tame after this.
"I don't suppose I shall ever have a chance of riding four winners in two days here, or of winning a double," said Picton.