The Rider in Khaki Part 41

"There's no telling what a man like that will do," answered Abel.

To return to Alan Chesney, he was anxious in the extreme. His wounds troubled him but he endeavored to shake off the feeling. He had no wish to be invalided at home. He wanted the change on his own account and for a particular purpose, to ride Bandmaster in the Steeplechase.

He applied for leave, which was readily granted, and was ordered not to return until quite well.

He told two or three of his brother officers why he was anxious to get home and of course they were determined to have "a bet on" Bandmaster.

His servant heard the news and it quickly got about among the rank and file.

A vexatious delay occurred--one of those small but important matters to be attended to at the last minute which are forever turning up at important moments.

Alan motored to Calais; and here again there was delay, no steamer being available for several hours. He fretted and fumed about. If this sort of thing continued there would be little chance of being home in time to see the race, let alone ride.

He pa.s.sed a restless time but at last the boat started and he was fairly on the way. All being well he would reach Little Trent in good time on the morning of the meeting.

None of his friends knew he was coming except Fred Skane, the trainer.

His brief telegram to Eve said nothing about it. She was overwhelmed with joy to hear from him that he was really safe and well.

Being a sensible woman she determined to celebrate Alan's good news by taking a large party of friends to Trent Park to see Bandmaster win.

Fred Skane said to her:

"I think he'll win, but I wish Captain Chesney was here to ride him.

It would be 'a cert' then."

CHAPTER XXVI

THE RIDER IN KHAKI

A splendid four-mile was planned out at Trent Park, a real test for chasers, almost up to the famous Aintree Grand National journey. There were stiff fences, two water jumps, some plough lane, and excellent going on gra.s.s. The horse that won would be a good 'un.

Bandmaster had done a great preparation. The trainer did not spare him; he had been over the course three or four times.

Sam Kerridge's son Will was to ride in the event of Captain Chesney's not being able to do so.

It was a clear, bright, sharp morning, and from an early hour motors and buses came by road. There was every promise of a big gathering even without the use of train service. Keen sportsmen were not to be denied the pleasure of such a meeting by any inconveniences they might have to put up with.

Eve Berkeley and her house party arrived in good time. Duncan Fraser was one, he attached himself to Ella Hallam. She could not fail to notice he was attracted. She liked him, his sterling worth appealed to her and Eve was always singing his praises.

Bernard Hallam was friendly with him. He was not at all displeased to notice Fraser and Ella were on excellent terms. He was partial to keen business men and such an one was Duncan Fraser.

There were three events before the Trent Grand Steeplechase, but the chief interest was centered in the big event, on which there was a lot of wagering.

Baron Childs was running Handy Man, a formidable steeplechaser who had missed the Grand National by an ace on two occasions. He was fully expected to make amends for two unlucky seconds at Aintree.

There was an interval of nearly an hour between the third event and the Steeplechase. The time was occupied in wagering and looking at the twenty-seven runners.

Bandmaster was favorite, the popularity of his owner had much to do with this. An official account of Alan's mission to Brussels had been made public, and he was the hero of the hour; much was given out but it was guessed more remained to be disclosed.

Apart from this, Bandmaster was regarded as a great horse. If half as good over a steeplechase course as on the flat he must possess a great chance. His speed was undeniable. If he proved a safe jumper nothing would be able to live with him on the flat at the finish. Fred Skane's opinion was known. The trainer had little fear of defeat. He said confidently that Bandmaster would carry the brown and blue to victory.

Eve Berkeley never looked better. Her cheeks glowed with health. She was happy--Alan was safe, what else mattered? She was radiant. Baron Childs did not conceal his admiration. She wore costly furs; they became her well. She walked proudly because of her hero, the man of the hour, the bravest of the brave.

There was only one thing lacking. If Alan could have ridden Bandmaster how glorious it would have been.

The party from The Forest caught her enthusiasm and exuberance of spirits. Their merry laughter rang clear and joyous.

Captain Morby was there, paying a flying visit from the front to see Bandmaster win. He had not met Alan since his return from his adventure.

It was half an hour before the race and a bustling scene took place as the twenty-seven horses were put to rights.

Riders hurried across the enclosure, stopping to speak to friends, colors just showing through the half-open coats, for the air was nipping. Most of them were gentlemen jockeys, five or six officers who had won their spurs over stiff courses and had capped this by brave actions at the front. Everybody recognized that racing, sport generally, had much to do with the wonderful heroism displayed in the war.

Will Kerridge was anxious. He hoped Bandmaster would win. He wanted the ride badly, but would have stood down gladly to let Alan Chesney have the mount. Fred Skane said nothing to him about Alan's intention to arrive home in time to have the ride on his horse. He was glad he had not mentioned it now; he thought Alan was detained, that he had not sufficiently recovered from his wounds to bear the journey.

A quarter of an hour more it was hopeless to expect him and yet even now Fred did not quite give up hope.

He looked anxiously about, raised his gla.s.ses and fixed them on the road from Trent Park house. n.o.body was coming. After all, Kerridge must ride--and win. He had given particular instructions how Bandmaster was to be handled. The riding of the horse had been discussed at the stud groom's house on several occasions. Sam was very anxious his son should win.

While the bustle and excitement was at its height at Trent Park a powerful motor car was speeding along the high-road at top pace. The driver was experienced and working under pressure, he had been promised a liberal tip if he arrived in time.

Behind sat Alan, endeavoring to restrain his feelings and keep quiet.

From time to time he looked at his watch and replaced it in his pocket with an impatient movement.

The car stopped with a jerk. The driver was out in a moment. Alan followed. What was wrong?

The tool box was relied upon. The man knew his work. In a quarter of an hour the car moved on, but precious time had been lost.

"We'll do it all right," said the driver.

Alan doubted, but held his peace. It would be a terrible disappointment to arrive too late.

He must keep as calm as possible, excitement was bad for him, his nerve had been severely tried.

The landscape became more familiar with each mile pa.s.sed. He was lucky to be home again. He gave a few thoughts to his recent adventures and was thankful he had pulled through.

The Park appeared in the distance. A glance at the watch showed it would be "neck or nothing," he might just do it.

Something went wrong with the steering gear, the car swerved and the front wheels stuck in the ditch. The driver was shot out and Alan flung against the back of the front seat. The man was unhurt and on his feet in a few seconds.

Alan swore; he could not help it.

"Lost by a few seconds," he said.

"I'll have her out," said the driver, who was in the car. By much display of skill and force he backed it out, fixed the steering gear, and said:

"Get in, sir, we'll do it yet. Is that the course?" and he pointed to where the flags waved.

"That's it," said Alan excitedly.