asy to handle, and
I see there are ten of them. Watch them; it's after four, and they must
be nearly ready to start."

The ponies were strung out round the course, each with a "shepherd"
standing to attention near its bridle, watch in hand. They could see
Jim's great form standing sentinel over a tiny animal, whose diminutive
rider was far too afraid of the huge Major to try to snatch even a yard
of ground; nearer, Wally kept a wary eye on the experienced jockey
on the blacksmith's racing mare, who was afraid of nothing, but
nevertheless had a certain wholesome respect for the tall fellow who
lounged easily against a tree near him, but never for an instant shifted
his gaze. The shepherds were waiting for a signal from the official
starter.

It came presently, a long shrill whistle, and simultaneously each
guardian stepped back, and the released ponies went off like a
flash--all save Bob's charge, who insisted on swinging round and bolting
in the wrong direction, while his jockey sawed at his mouth in vain.
Yawing across the track the rebel encountered the blacksmith's pony,
who swerved violently in her swift course to avoid him, and lost so much
ground that any chance she had in the race was hopelessly lost, whereat
the blacksmith, who was standing on the hill, raved and tore his hair
unavailingly. A smart little bay pony fought out the finish with Jim's
tiny charge, and was beaten by a short head, just as Wally, walking
quickly, came back to his party.

"That was a great race," said Norah. "Wally, you shouldn't walk so fast
on such a day. It makes one warm only to look at you."

Wally answered with an absent air that was unlike his usual alertness.
The girls, watching the ponies come in, noticed nothing, and presently
he drew Mr. Linton aside.

"Did you notice that cloud, sir?" he asked, in a low voice. "I didn't
until I was down on the track with the pony, looking in that direction.
But it's twice the size it was when I went down."

"I've been looking at it, and I don't like it," said Mr. Linton.
"It's smoke, I'm positive, and too near Billabong and the Creek to be
comfortable. I think we'll make tracks for home, Wally. Have you seen
Murty anywhere?"

As if in answer, Mr. O'Toole came running down the hill.

"I've been huntin' ye's everywhere," he panted. "There's a man just
kem out from Cunjee lookin' for ye, sir--some one's tallyphoned in
that there's a big grass fire comin' down on the Creek, an' 'twill b