Part 21 (1/2)

There were some good bouts before the event of the evening took place, and when Ivor entered the ring he was loudly cheered. The trainer was pleased with his reception. He had not received much of the world's applause during his career.

The way he mounted The Savage augured well for his success. The horse appeared to know he had a man on his back who would give him ”a good game.” For a moment The Savage stood still, then suddenly he sprang straight into the air, all his feet off the ground, and his back arched.

Ivor had a severe wrench, but stuck to his seat. Round the ring the horse went, backing and fighting in his most savage mood.

Glen saw the horse was in a nasty temper and hoped the trainer would not be hurt. That he would retain his seat for ten minutes he thought impossible.

Ivor Hadwin made no empty boast when he said at one time he believed he rode as well as Glen Leigh. Considering the small amount of practice he had his seat was splendid, and for five minutes The Savage tried in vain to throw him. Glen, who was in the ring, encouraged him by frequent shouts.

Six minutes pa.s.sed and still Hadwin was in the saddle, but Glen fancied he saw signs that he was tiring. If this were so it was all up with his chance.

Again The Savage stood still, gathering his strength. His eyes rolled, his nostrils were extended and red. Foam came from his mouth, but his limbs were set, and there was no quivering. It was all determination, and no excitement.

Away he went again, round and round the ring, twisting and twirling, leaping sideways, banging Hadwin against the posts. Then he went to the centre of the ring, turned suddenly, galloped round at top speed. In a moment he stopped dead and springing into the air gave a terrific buck, squealing like a mad horse as he did so.

The trainer was tired. The struggle had been tremendous, and the last plunge proved too much for him. He was thrown clean out of the saddle, and fell with a thud. Remembering Glen's warning to get out of the ring as quickly as possible, he was scrambling to his feet, when The Savage rus.h.i.+ng at him, knocked him down, and trampled him with his forefeet.

Glen Leigh sprang forward as soon as the trainer fell, and it was well he did. He arrived just in the nick of time, before any more serious injury than a few bruises was done. He seized The Savage by the bridle and pulled him back, unconsciously showing his great strength; there was a cheer as he held the brute in hand while the trainer left the ring.

Before The Savage had time to switch round Glen was in the saddle, and another tussle took place, but it was an easy task for the rider this time. The trainer had given the horse a severe dose, which had had due effect.

Glen dismounted and announced from the ring that a cheque for twenty-five pounds would be handed Ivor Hadwin for the splendid way he had handled The Savage; a roar of cheering greeted this generous offer.

There was one woman in the vast audience who watched Glen Leigh all the time he was in the ring. She was a dark, handsome, well dressed woman, with fine eyes, a good figure, rather inclined to be stout, and she evidently knew many people present. She had been several times, and had always given her whole attention to Glen's performance with The Savage.

This alone appeared to interest her.

She wished she knew him. She was about forty years of age, perhaps a year or two older, and her life had been a peculiar one. She had married at the age of eighteen, and her husband deserted her when she was twenty. At this time she went as a barmaid in one of the numerous private bars that then existed in Sydney. Some of these were veritable dens of vice, but she kept herself respectable for several years. When she was thirty she had saved sufficient money to take a small boarding-house at North Sh.o.r.e. Shortly afterwards she was introduced to Craig Bellshaw, and from North Sh.o.r.e she went to Macquarie Street; for the last year she had lived at Manley. She did not like Bellshaw, but he was useful to her and not ungenerous, and as he left her pretty much to herself she was fairly contented. She was one of those women who, given a better chance early in life, would probably have made good use of it.

She had plenty of confidence, boldness if you will, but she was not vicious; her life was irreproachable, except for Bellshaw's coming into it, and she lived quietly at Manley, with her maid, and a Chinaman cook, who was a perfect marvel at concocting curious and succulent dishes. Her name was Rosa Prevost, and her neighbours, although they did not quite understand her, found her affable, generous and hospitable. In fact Mrs.

Prevost was popular in her surroundings. She knew Ivor Hadwin, through Bellshaw, having been to the stables with him. If she wished to be introduced to Glen Leigh the trainer would oblige her, but she did not care to ask him; she was too proud.

Her house at Manley was frequented by several well-known people such as Jerry Makes.h.i.+ft, Tom Roslyn, and other journalists, and many actors and actresses, several of whom knew her past life, and how she had been treated in her young days.

She was destined to have her desire for an introduction to Glen Leigh fulfilled sooner than she expected.

CHAPTER XVII

JEALOUSY

”Yes, I know Glen Leigh--a most interesting man,” said Jerry Makes.h.i.+ft.

He was at Sea View, Mrs. Prevost's house at Manley. She had invited him there with the purpose to find out something about the daring rider of The Savage.

”Tell me about him. I admire his riding,” she said.

Jerry gave her a full account of Glen's career as far as he knew it. She had read ”The Sketch,” but he embellished what he had written there for her gratification.

”So he was a keeper of the fence,” she said thoughtfully. ”Fancy a man like that being exiled there. I wonder why he went?”

”A woman probably,” said Jerry.