Young Colley still had Bandmaster in the center of the track, clear of the others. He was riding a cool, well-judged race, and had every confidence in his mount. Yard by yard the horse crept up; his jockey knew he was gaining at every stride. He measured the distance to the winning-post with critical eyes and felt certain of victory. From the stands Bandmaster seemed to be a long way behind the leaders, and Alan thought his bad luck in the race was to continue. Gradually the sounds increased until they culminated in a roar as White Legs came on at the head of the field, followed by Manifest, and Spur, who had come again in gallant style.
A lull in the shouting for an infinitesimal moment, then a terrific roar proclaimed Bandmaster was pulling hard.
The brown and blue came along fast, very fast, and there was no sign of faltering on the part of Bandmaster, who tackled his stiff work in bull-dog style.
"By gad, he'll do it!" exclaimed Harry excitedly.
"Looks cheerful," said Vincent.
Alan made no remark. He was not quite certain his horse would catch
White Legs and Manifest; he had given Spur the go by.
There was considerable doubt as to which horse would win, although the odds were in favor of White Legs.
Bradley, riding a confident race, was on the alert; he never threw a chance away. Tommy Colley got every ounce out of Manifest; and when his brother drew alongside on Bandmaster he knew he must make the last ounce a trifle over weight to win.
For a second the pair hung together, then Manifest was beaten, but struggled on. Roar upon roar came from the vast crowd as Bandmaster got to White Legs' quarters, and the excitement was tremendous.
Eve Berkeley looked on anxiously. At this critical point she hoped the Baron's horse would be first past the post; she would draw a large sum, and the prospect of winning was delightful.