"I daresay you are right," replied Jack. "Has he won any races?"
"A couple of minor handicaps at the Turf Club meeting, but no race of any value. He is generally in at a nice weight," said Barry.
"He won a Welter, too," said Joe.
"So he did, I forgot that. Carried ten seven, I think," said Barry.
"I don't know what I weigh now," said Jack, "but I could easily go to scale at ten stone at home, and less if required."
"Then you have ridden in England?" said the trainer, somewhat surprised.
"Oh, yes, scores of times. I was almost at the top of the tree one year. I won a race at Lewes a few days before I sailed for Fremantle."
"I thought you knew how to handle a horse when you threw your legs across Lucky Boy," replied Joe.
"That's Dongara," said Barry, as a grey came along alone. "He's got a bit of a temper. Gives Joe a lot of trouble, I'm afraid; but we keep pegging away at him because we think there's something in him, and a clever man chose him for me in Sydney. He cost more than he's worth, I fancy, and he's had adventures; the beggar was ship-wrecked, and had to swim ashore."
Jack glanced at the grey, and liked his appearance.