pposite of the criticism passed on his antagonist. The doubt as to
Delamayn was whether he had been sufficiently trained. Still the
solid strength of the man, the slow, panther-like smoothness of his
movements--and, above all, his great reputation in the world of
muscle and sport--had their effect. The betting which, with occasional
fluctuations, had held steadily in his favor thus far, held, now that he
was publicly seen, steadily in his favor still.

"Fleetwood for shorter distances, if you like; but Delamayn for a
four-mile race."

"Do you think he sees us?" whispered Sir Patrick to the surgeon.

"He sees nobody."

"Can you judge of the condition he is in, at this distance?"

"He has twice the muscular strength of the other man. His trunk and
limbs are magnificent. It is useless to ask me more than that about his
condition. We are too far from him to see his face plainly."

The conversation among the audience began to flag again; and the silent
expectation set in among them once more. One by one, the different
persons officially connected with the race gathered together on the
grass. The trainer Perry was among them, with his can of water in his
hand, in anxious whispering conversation with his principal--giving him
the last words of advice before the start. The trainer's doctor, leaving
them together, came up to pay his respects to his illustrious colleague.

"How has he got on since I was at Fulham?" asked Mr. Speedwell.

"First-rate, Sir! It was one of his bad days when you saw him. He has
done wonders in the last eight-and-forty hours."

"Is he going to win the race?"

Privately the doctor had done what Perry had done before him--he had
backed Geoffrey's antagonist. Publicly he was true to his colors. He
cast a disparaging look at Fleetwood--and answered Yes, without the
slightest hesitation.

At that point, the conversation was suspended by a sudden movement in
the inclosure. The runners were on their way to the starting-place. The
moment of the race had come.

Shoulder to shoulder, the two men waited--each with his foot touching
the mark. The firing of a pistol gave the signal for the start. At the
instant when the report sounded they were off.

Fleetwood at once took the lead, Delamayn following, at from two to
three yards behind him. In that order they ran the first round, the
second, and the third--both reserving their strength; both watched with
breathless interest by every soul in the pl