The attention of thousands of people was riveted on the horses; all other thoughts were excluded. For a few brief moments everything was forgotten but the business in hand, the probable result, which horse would be added to the long roll of Hunt Cup winners.
The thirty horses were almost level as they came in sight, one or two stragglers, but it was an even race so far. As they began the ascent, the stiff pull to the winning-post, the field lengthened out, horse after horse fell back, and a dozen only possessed chances. The rise finds out the weak spots, and the lack of a final gallop makes a lot of difference. It takes a good horse to win a Hunt Cup; no matter if he does little after, he must be brilliant on the day.
Alan stood with Captain Morby and Captain Newport high on the grand-stand. They knew where to command the best view of the race; it was a climb, a scramble to get there, but worth it.
"Bandmaster's in the center," said Harry. "He's going strong, but he'll have to make his run soon, there's a good many lengths between him and Spur."
The favorite was at the head of the field, traveling in great style.
There was just a suspicion he would not quite stay the course, but he
seemed to be giving it the lie. Close on his heels came Manifest,
Bird, Hooker, Peter's Lad, Beltan, and White Legs.
The Baron's horse began slowly, but soon joined up with the rest. The scarlet jacket was prominent, and as Eve saw it creeping toward the front, she felt confident the Baron's tip would again come off. She wondered why she did not feel enthusiastic at the prospect of a good win. Was it because she would rather have had her money on Bandmaster and see Alan's colors successful? Perhaps it was; anyhow it was absurd to wish to see his colors in front when her money was on White Legs.
Manifest shot to the front as they drew level with the lawn, followed by Bird, and Peter's Lad; with a rush came Scout, an outsider. White Legs was gaining ground. Right in the center of the course was Bandmaster, who liked the stiff going and tackled the work like a good 'un, the seven stone gave him every chance.
Alan was anxious to win; the Hunt Cup was a race he often had a shot at; so far his horses had not run into a place. He had great hopes of Bandmaster's changing his luck.
Valentine Braund backed Manifest, not a bad pick; Bernard Hallam was on Bandmaster; so was Ella, and most of Eve Berkeley's party followed the brown and blue sleeves.
A loud shout greeted the appearance of White Legs in the leading trio, and Bradley looked so much at ease that all who had backed the horse were confident; before the distance was reached the scarlet jacket held the lead, and the Baron's horse appeared to have a mortgage on the race.