ade was interesting; the new colors of the sixteen riders
flashed in the sun, the horses' coats shone like satin.

Gunner was on the favorite. Tommy Colley rode Orbit, Ben Bradley Merry
Monarch. He was a great horseman, quite at the top of the tree. His
finishes were superb, he had snatched many a race out of the fire--on
the post.

Nothing looked better than the Baron's horse as they went past on the
way to the post; the scarlet jacket glided along quickly, heading the
others. Gold Star and Orbit were much fancied. Curlew, Halton, and
Sniper had friends. Postman was the outsider, a two-hundred-to-one
chance; only a few pounds went on him for the sake of the odds.

Thousands of people watched the horses, little dreaming that in another
twelve months Epsom Downs would be vacant on Derby Day and wounded
soldiers the only occupants of the stand, turned into a hospital.
There was, however, a shadow of war over the land, and rumors had been
ripe for some time that all was not well. Nobody on this wonderful
day, however, anticipated the storm would burst so soon. There had
been false alarms before, rumblings of thunder from Europe, but the
country was lulled with a sense of security which events completely
shattered. Hundreds of men watching the Derby were lying dead on the
battlefields before twelve months had passed.

The race commenced, and after a roar of "They're off!" the shouting
ceased, there was a peculiar stillness for a few moments, then the
hubbub broke out again, gradually increasing as the horses came along.

"What's that in white?" asked Eve.

"Postman, a two-hundred-to-one chance," said Alan.

The outsider was lengths in front, his jockey had been instructed to
come right away and do the best he could. It was a forlorn hope, such
tactics were more likely to succeed than others because they would not
be anticipated.

Gold Star and Merry Monarch were racing together in good positions; so
were Orbit and Curlew; while Sniper was at the tail end of the field.

Ella thought it a strange uphill and down course, very different from
the flat tracks of Flemington, Caulfield, and Ranwick. She would not
have been surprised to see a spill at one of the bends, and when
Tattenham Corner was reached she gave a gasp as she saw two or three
riders dangerously near the rails. Once in the straight the excitement
broke loose, the strange, wonderful excitement a race for the Derby
causes and which is like no o