Part 20 (1/2)

In the meantime Jim Dennis was taking every care to have his horse fit and thoroughly wound up to go two miles. There was no pampering about Jim's method of treatment. Plenty of fresh air and exercise was his motto, and he trusted more to nature than art.

Neptune was given plenty of long, strong, steady work. He was not galloped at racing speed over a mile one day and then cantered for the next two or three days.

Willie Dennis rode the horse two-mile gallops at an even pace, and the work Neptune did suited him. As for Willie, he never felt happier or more elated than when he was on the back of his father's horse. Jim Dennis was proud of the lad, and gave him every encouragement. Day by day he saw the horse become better and better, and he knew that on the eventful date Neptune would be as hard as nails.

Rodney Shaw was very anxious to win the race, and now he had secured the services of Madsley he was sanguine of success. At the same time, he had a wholesome dread of Neptune, but consoled himself with the thought that Willie Dennis would hardly be able to do the horse justice.

Although Abe Dalton was regarded as an outlaw and a sort of social pariah, Dr Tom and the committee of the race club thought they could not exclude his entries from the races.

Dalton had done some desperate deeds in his time, but since his illness he seemed to have changed for the better.

'It will not last long. He is certain to break out again,' said Dr Tom, and he was right.

Abe Dalton entered a half-bred horse called The Captain for the cup, and two others in minor races.

No one knew much about The Captain, and when it came to handicapping him there was a difficulty.

The committee did the work of adjusting the weights, and great arguments they had over it at Dr Tom's house.

'If we accept Dalton's entries, as I take it we must, his horses shall be fairly weighted,' said the doctor.

'How can we weight a horse we know nothing about?' said the chairman. 'I say, give The Captain top weight, and if Abe Dalton does not like it let him do the other thing.'

'But The Captain is only a three-year-old. We ought not to give him top weight,' said the doctor.

'Some horses are better at three years than at any other age,' was the reply.

'The lowest weight is to be seven stone,' said Dr Tom; 'and I think if we say nine stone seven for top weight that will leave a sufficient margin.'

There was a lot of wrangling over the matter, but eventually First Cla.s.s was weighted at nine stone seven, and The Captain put on the same mark with Rodney Shaw's horses and Neptune, who were all to carry eight stone seven.

These comprised the first division, and the tail end were in the seven-stone list.

Considering the committee knew very little about some of the horses entered, the general opinion was that their work was well done, and Aaron Hyam soon found his book would be profitable, as most of the runners were backed.

Despite his weight, First Cla.s.s, who was a fair public performer in the district, was favourite. Abe Dalton's horse was well backed by several members of his gang, who came into Swamp Creek for the purpose.

Rodney Shaw backed both his horses, Distant Sh.o.r.e for the most money, but Neptune was almost out in the cold, as Jim Dennis was contented to run for the stake and a few modest wagers.

Dr Tom was most enthusiastic, and went about the Creek, followed by Baalim, with an air of importance, as though greatness had been suddenly and unexpectedly thrust upon him.

A night or two before the day of the races the crowd at the Gum Tree Hotel was large, and Aaron Hyam was doing a brisk business both at the bar and with his book.

Abe Dalton had ridden in from Barker's Creek, and as he was somewhat the worse for liquor there was every prospect of a row, for he was a quarrelsome fellow when in this state.

'I wish he'd go,' thought Aaron Hyam to himself, but dared not say anything to him.

Dalton was swaggering about his horse, and swore he would beat anything 'in these parts.' He offered to back The Captain against any other horse in the race for a hundred.

'Come, some of you fellows. Have you no pluck?' he said. 'He's only a three-year-old, but he'll beat the whole blooming lot.'