The whips were out; down they came, and still the horses were locked together. The Duke tossed his head. Colley thought it was all up, that he had given in; then to his surprise the horse's resentment took another turn and he made a savage effort to get his head in front.
The din was tremendous, and the excitement great; there was not likely to be a better race than this in the four days.
Bradley rode splendidly, so did Colley, and both horses put in all they knew.
They were just at the post when The Duke made his final stride. Had he won? Nobody knew, not even the jockeys; each thought he had just got it. The judge was certain; he alone could decide, and he did not hesitate.
There was a moment of silent suspense, then the hurricane of cheers as number one, The Duke's number, went up. Alan's horse had won by half a head in the last stride and Southerly Buster was only just vanquished. "Honor's divided," was Mr. Hallam's comment when he met Alan in the paddock.
"They are," he replied; "there is nothing between them."
"Only half a head," answered Mr. Hallam, smiling, "but it makes all the difference."
"I thought I'd just done it," said Bradley.
"So did I," said Colley. "It was the last stride; they were dead level next moment."
"It was worth coming home for," said Alan enthusiastically. "There'll be some fun at the front to-night. There were several wagers on. They are all great sports."