three times. He must see about his leave at
once.

He supposed his safe arrival would be at once reported at home and that
Eve would see it and others.

There was a budget of letters for him some six weeks old. One of the
last he opened came from his trainer. The date of the Steeplechase had
been altered because the troops camped in the Park had left earlier
than was expected.

Alan was uncertain about the date. He asked, and found he had just a
couple of days to spare to get there in time.

Then came another thought which made him gasp. Had Bandmaster been
struck out when he was reported shot?

Every minute was precious.

He wired to Skane at once, imposing secrecy, and asking it Bandmaster
was still in the race. If so he would be home to ride.

"Not a word about this."

Fred Skane had not scratched Bandmaster. He would not believe Alan
Chesney had been shot, and this firm conviction cheered Eve Berkeley
wonderfully. Then came the news that Captain Chesney had returned to
headquarters after many hairbreadth escapes and that he was severely
wounded.

The reaction set in at Trent Park, The Forest, and Little Trent. Gloom
turned to joy; everybody was gay and festive. Captain Chesney was
safe, he would soon recover from a few wounds, these were trifles to a
brave strong man.

"There you are," said Fred Skane. "What did I tell you, Miss Berkeley.
I knew he was not shot--not likely. Supposing I'd scratched
Bandmaster--there'd have been a row and no mistake. 'Scratch the horse
out of respect,' says Abel Head. 'Memory,' says I, 'what memory? He's
alive. There's no memory about Captain Chesney yet, I'll bet, or I'm a
Dutchman.'"

Eve laughed.

"Splendid, Fred, splendid! You were right; we were all wrong. But he
was reported shot."

"Reported be----" said Fred, checking himself. "Who believes reports?
Not me! We get too much or too little, and it came from a German
source; not good enough, says I, not half good enough for this child."

When the trainer received Alan's telegram he chuckled, then laughed
heartily.

"By Jove, this is grand! Won't there be a double distilled surprise
for 'em all. If he can get home--if? He must!--and ride, wounds or no
wounds--and he'll win, I can see him doing it--what a day it will be!
Not a word, not me; I wouldn't miss the shock of his appearance on the
course, in an unexpected way, not for a thousand."

"Fred's a bit above himself," said Abel Head.