e of those at the back
for a peep at her.

As she left the Paddock and entered the course, the people rose to her
_en masse_. Storms of cheers greeted her and went bellowing round the
course. The Canal tossed them back to the Grand Stand, and the
Embankment was white with waving handkerchiefs.

_Mocassin! Mocassin! Mocassin!_

All eyes were on the mare, and the great brown horse, in the far corner
of the Paddock, was stripped, and his jockey astride, before half a
dozen people were aware of his presence.

By the time Jaggers and Ikey had observed him, he was on the move.

The two J's, Monkey Brand and Joses, crossed toward him, but there was
no getting near that tumultuous earth-shaker in brown. Jim Silver was at
his head, and, strong as the young man was, he had all his work cut out
to hold the horse as he bounced across the Paddock, scattering his crowd
with far-reaching heels.

"'Ware horse!" rose the cry.

"Give him room!"

"Look out for his heels!"

"Steady the beauty!"

Plunging across the Paddock, to the disturbance of everybody but the
little jockey with the fair hair, who swung to his motions as a flower,
fast in earth, swings to the wind, he tore out of the Paddock amid the
jeers and laughter of some and the curses of others.

"Smart!" said Joses.

"My eye!" answered Monkey Brand.

* * * * *

Jim Silver, panting after his run, joined Old Mat.

The two made toward the Grand Stand.

In front of them a middle-aged man, soberly dressed, and a tall girl
were walking.

"That's the American Ambassador," muttered the old man as they passed.
"Come with Lord Derby's party. Great scholar, they say. That's his
daughter."

The tall Ambassador with the stoop paused to let the other couple go by.

Then he nodded at the young man's back.

"Mr. Silver," he murmured in his daughter's ear. "And the old
gentleman's _her_ father."

The girl was alert at once. She, too, had heard the tales.

"Is it?" she cried. "Where's she?"

"I don't know," the other answered.

"I _hope_ they win," said the girl--"in some ways."

Her father smiled.

"You're no American," he scoffed. "You're a woman. That's all you are."

CHAPTER XLVIII

The Star-Spangled Jacket

As the two men took their places, the parade in front of the Grand Stand
was in full swing.

There was a big field: some thirty starters in all.

The favourite, as the top weight, led them by at a