"You don't mean to say you'd scratch Barellan for a race like the Melbourne Cup merely because you were not offered anything out of the sweep?" Garry asked.
"I would. No man shall get the better of me. It's only fair. I have all the expense incurred over the horse."
"Then you're not much of a sportsman."
"Just as good as anyone else," returned Craig.
"Well, if I happen to draw him you can scratch him. You'll not get me to lay you anything," said Garry.
When Bellshaw arrived in Sydney he went to Hadwin's house at Randwick, where there was always a room for him. The trainer would have preferred his staying elsewhere, but could raise no objections. The horses pleased him, Barellan especially. He seemed in rare fettle, and the trainer said no horse could possibly have done better.
"You'll have to look out for a jockey soon, or they'll all be snapped up. There is likely to be a big field, thirty runners or thereabouts," said Ivor.
"What about Nicholl?"
"He'd be all right if you could get him."
"Is he engaged?"