bouring farms and stations, groomed and
polished in a way that only happened to them once a year. The well-bred
performers were handicapped with heavy weights, while the others had
been let off lightly, so that all had a chance.

"Billabong has a horse running to-day--did you know?" Jim inquired.

"No!" Tommy looked up, dimpling with interest. "But how exciting, Jim.
Is it yours?"

"No." Jim shook his head. "I won't enter a horse if I can't ride him
myself, and of course I'm too heavy. He belongs to the station, but he's
always looked upon as Murty's, and black Billy's going to ride him. He's
in the Hurdle Race."

"Do you think he has any chance?"

"Well, he can gallop and jump all right," Jim said. "But he hasn't had
much training, and whether he'll jump in company is open to doubt. But
I don't think he'll disgrace us. You've seen Murty riding him--a big
chestnut with a white blaze."

"Oh, yes--he calls him Shannon, doesn't he?" said Tommy. "I saw him jump
three fences on him last time we were out mustering with your people.
He's a beauty, Jim."

"Yes, he's pretty good. Murty thinks he's better than Garryowen, but I
don't," Jim observed.

"If the Archangel Gabriel turned into a horse you wouldn't think he was
up to Garryowen!" said Wally.

"No, and he probably wouldn't be," said Jim, laughing. "If you begin
life as an archangel, how would you settle down to being a horse after?"

"I suppose it needs practice," Wally admitted. "Look out--here they
come!"

The horses were coming down the straight in their preliminary canter,
and the crowd abandoned the business of picnicking and turned its
attention to the first race. The riders, mostly local boys, looked
desperately serious, and, as they pulled up after their canter, and
turning, trotted slowly back past the rise, shouts of warning and
encouragement and instruction came to them--from the owners of their
mounts--which had the effect of making the boys look yet more unhappy.
A bookmaker, the sole representative of his profession, yelled steadily
from under a lightwood tree; those who were venturesome enough to do
business with him were warned solemnly by more experienced men to keep a
sharp look-out that he did not get away with their money before the end
of the day.

"That happened in Cunjee some years ago," said Mr. Linton. "A bookmaker
appeared from goodness knows where, and struck a very solid patch of bad
luck. All the district seemed to know how to p