Picton had not seen the course before, at least only from the road, and as he looked at it he smiled.
"I may lose my way," he said to Rita; "go the wrong course."
"You will find it easy enough, and you are not likely to make mistakes. Look," and she pointed out the track to him, and the various obstacles.
There were bookmakers there—where are they not when races are on, no matter how small the fields, or the crowd?
Picton wore the pink jacket, ready to ride Pitcher in the Maiden Hurdle Race, the opening event. There were only three runners, and yet the books accepted six to four on Dick's horse; there was a strong run on Frisco; and Fraud was nibbled at.
"Come along," said Dick; "time to mount."
"Good luck!" said Rita with a smile. "You'll find Pitcher easy to ride. I've been on him several times."
"He'll find me rather a different burden," said Picton.
The three runners came out, and Picton received a hearty welcome, which he acknowledged.
"Sits his horse well," said one.