'What a pace!' exclaimed Dr Tom.
'It's a terribly fast race,' answered Jim; 'but Grey Bird is as fleet as the wind.'
'If Willie can hold his own with Jack Ashton he's a young wonder. Ashton has frightened many a lad out of a race. Look there! He'll have Grey Bird over the rails,' said Mr Dauntsey, the latter part of whose remark was caused by Ashton boring on to Jim Dennis's horse.
'That's not fair riding,' said Dr Tom.
'It's foul riding,' said Jim, 'and Ashton ought to be reported for it. I hear he is fond of cutting things fine.'
'The rider of the favourite, I suppose, thinks he may take liberties,' said Dr Tom.
'He'll not take them with my horse,' said Jim.
The excitement was rising every moment; it was evident a desperate struggle was at hand, for Bung Bung and Warfare, not to mention Target and Walwa, were all dangerous. It was an open race three furlongs from home, and the pent-up feelings of the people at last found vent.
At first there was a rumbling sound, which grew and swelled into a sort of roar, and culminated in loud shouts.
'The favourite!' 'The favourite!' 'Defiance wins!' 'Go it, Ashton!' 'Bravo, Jack!'