He went back and retrieved Chevron from Arthur's custody.
"Mr. Simon said he couldn't wait, Mr. Patrick, but he said to wish you luck. He's gone back to the stands with the rest of the family to watch the finish."
"All right, Arthur; thanks."
"Would you like me to come to the start with you, sir?"
"Oh, no, thanks."
"In that case, I'll go and see about getting myself a place to see from. Good luck, sir. We're betting on you."
And he hurried off through the crowd.
Brat put the reins over Chevron's head and was just about to mount when he thought that he would take one more look at the girth. He had already tightened it, but perhaps he had made it too tight.
But someone had loosened the girth.
Brat stood holding up the flap with his hand and stared. Someone had loosened it since he left the mare with Simon. He put his hand under the girth and tested its degree of slackness. He reckoned that it would have got him out of the park into the country and would have lasted perhaps another two fences. After that, the saddle would have slipped round on the highly excitable Chevron and she would have gone crazy.