"Then you find your jobs not all pleasure and profit?" said Bricky smiling.
"It's anything but that. The boss is all right, a real good sort, but some of the owners are desperate skinflints."
"You'll find a difference with the owner of Lucky Boy if he wins a race," said Bricky. "I'm open to bet he gives tips all round if he has a win, and liberal ones too."
"Do you know him?"
"Yes, I rode a race or two for him years ago, but I have not seen him since he went away. Mr. Redland I only met quite accidentally as he was coming to see the boss, but I am sure he is a genuine good fellow. It was he gave me the chance to look after Lucky Boy."
The new arrival at Kenley's stables went out with the team to exercise at Randwick next morning, and Jack Redland and Barry Tuxford were on the course. After mutual greetings, the trainer suggested Jack should mount Lucky Boy and give him a canter, and then a fast mile spin with a couple of others.
Nothing loath, Jack was soon ready, and Joel Kenley's practised eyes quickly saw he had a good seat. The appearance of a strange rider, more especially an amateur, caused some comment amongst the lookers on, and there were many inquiries to learn who he was.
Lucky Boy moved somewhat stiffly, as this was his first exercise canter after the voyage, but it quickly wore off, and by the time the trainer gave instructions for the gallop the horse was eager to be off. The going was good, and Jack admired all the surroundings—the hills, the houses at Randwick, and the distant view of famous Botany Bay.
The horses sent out to accompany Lucky Boy were not of a very high class, but both had won handicaps at Moorefield, Canterbury, and elsewhere. Jack soon found he would not have much difficulty in beating them, and this he did comfortably and with judgment.
As they pulled up, Joel Kenley said to Barry Tuxford—