d to the last
ounce and, as Raffle said, his temper was perfect.

"He won't mind the crowd and the horses," he said, laying his hand upon
the colt's glossy neck. "I never saw such a tractable animal. It is a
proud day for me to live to see the Blenheim blood doing a big thing
like this. I always believed in it, sir, though we had a good many
failures. I wonder what the public would say if they knew everything."

"They are not in the least likely to do that," Fielden laughed. "I think
we were wise to keep the whole thing to ourselves. It is just as well,
too, to let the colt run as Sir George's property. At any rate, there's
no harm done and we haven't broken any rules. Besides, it is all in the
family. What are your plans for to-morrow, Raffle? If you don't mind, I
will go to Epsom with you. Sir George and Miss Haredale can follow on
Wednesday morning. I don't want to lose sight of the colt if I can help
it. I wish Wednesday was over."

Raffle highly approved the suggestion, so, on the morrow, they went off
to Epsom with the colt. They literally slept with it all Tuesday night.
The fateful Wednesday dawned without a cloud in the sky and by noon the
Downs were crowded with people. For the most part they meant to have a
holiday, seeing that they were on the favourite to a man and that the
chance of the favourite losing was as remote as a racing possibility
could be. Shortly after two o'clock Fielden left the paddock and went to
join Sir George and May and Miss Carden.

"I hope all is well," May whispered.

"It couldn't be better," Fielden said. "Another hour and you will be out
of your misery. The colt looks as fine as a star. We are having him
saddled at the top end of the course so that he won't be actually seen
till he is ready for the start. It will be a popular victory, May."

"Oh, yes," May said nervously. "I suppose it will. I don't know when I
felt so anxious. I was looking forward to enjoying this race, but I
don't think I shall. I envy you, Harry. How can you keep so cool?"

Fielden smiled. In fact, he was anything but cool. He looked confident
but, at the same time, he was conscious of a dryness in his throat and
of the quicker beating of his heart as he weighed the possibilities
which the next hour held for him and the party from Haredale Park. At
that moment he possessed practically nothing. If by any untoward fate
the horse lost he would be as poor as he was before, and his marriage
with May would be