'The money I have put into that man's pocket would keep me comfortably for life,' he growled; 'and the mean son of Jerusalem has never had the decency to tip me more than a fiver.'
Aaron Hyam's hotel was the resort of the Swamp Creek folk and the whole of the better-class people for many miles around. It was quite a different place from Potter's Shanty, and for a country hotel was respectably kept even in those rough and often lawless times.
The astute Aaron worked his cards well and was in good odour even with such men as Dalton's gang. He likewise kept well in with the police, and Sergeant Machinson was a supporter of his.
A fortnight before the race for the Swamp Creek Cup, two or three bookmakers from Bathurst, Bourke and Orange arrived in the place and put up at Hyam's hotel.
Aaron would have preferred to have the manipulating of the market to himself, but as he could not very well do this, he had to remain contented with fleecing the visitors to his hotel as best he might.
One of these bookmakers was a friend of the owner of First Class, and he remonstrated with Aaron for making that animal favourite.
'He's never done much, only won a bit of a handicap at Bathurst,' said Price James, the friend of the owner. 'What do you make him favourite for?'
'That's my business,' said Aaron. 'If you care to lay longer odds, do so. Four to one is quite enough for me to lay against a horse like First Class amongst our lot. Why, his name gives him away at once! Had you called him Third Class, or No Class, it would have been different, but First Class—well, four to one is a very fair price against a horse with such a name.'
Rodney Shaw had two horses entered, both by Seahorse. They were named Seaweed and Distant Shore, and he fancied one of them would win.
When Ben Madsley heard from Jim Dennis that he was going to let his son Willie ride Neptune he laughed, and thought to himself,—