University of Santa Clara - Redwood Yearbook (Santa Clara, CA)

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THE REDWOOD the conversation of the afternoon was the entry of Eord Everleigh ' s Winsome Win. This horse was little known, in fact she had never run in public, so naturally this move rather upset the pubhc ' s calculations for the coming event. The people knew if Everleigh entered a horse, it must be a good one. Still, after expert consideration the gen- eral opinion had it, that no matter what this new entry was made of, he could scarcely run alongside horses like Max- well and Cleopatra, which were the favorites. On the veranda of the club-house stood Lord Everleigh himself, with a pair of binoculars slung over his shoul- der. He was deliberating seriously with two other gentlemen of racing appearance. Hard by at a table sat Eady Everleigh in plumes and silk with several friends. The conversation in both groups consisted of horses, wagers and jockeys. Presently a man consulting a note- book entered the veranda and walked to the group of gentlemen. The man was McEareu. Well, what news? asked Everleigh. I ' ve got several names here, but I think either one of these is the man, — Dermot or Ingles. They ' ve both been riding well,lately. Everleigh studied the names for a long time, then looked up thoughtfully. Well, gentlemen, what do you think? They ' re two of the best, answered one of the racing gentlemen. The other appeared less sanguine. At length he said doubtfully. Neither of them is the man that is riding Max- well or Cleopatra. On this Everleigh became more thoughtful than ever. He gazed ab- stractedly over at the swaying crowd about the betting booths and played nervously with the note-book in his hand. At length he said with a determined voice. We can ' t have any confounded second class man on the horse next Saturday. We want the best, — the best jockey in England. It ' s to be my big deal this year and I ' ll not take chances. We ' ve got the horse that can do it and now we want the man. And by Heaven, we ' ll have him! At that moment the attention of the crowd was drawn to the approach of the horses for the fifth race, the event of the day. The crowd in the booths moved towards the track, and the occu- pants of the grandstand sat up to criti- cize the prancing line of ponies. The gentlemen on the veranda raised their glasses and studied the horses as they passed the club-house. There ' s Dermot now on Firefly, ' ' exclaimed McLaren. She ' s the favor- ite. And there ' s Lord Waterbury ' s old nag Endymion, I thought that horse had died long ago, remarked one of the racing gentlemen. In a few rnoments the horses were at the post. After some skilful manoeuvre- ing on the part of the starter, the cry suddenly went up: They ' re off. All eyes followed them around the farther

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THE REDWOOD Not my doings, madam. Have no say, you know. One week ' s notice. With that he turned on his heel and passed through the gate. The poor woman in her distress ran after him to the carriage. There she appealed to Lord Everleigh himself. Just a month longer, sir, she begged, I know I ' ll have some money then. Please don ' t turn me away. U here will I go! What will I do! The Lord Evetleigh looked impatient and uncomfortable. I see no other way madam, no other way, he said. With this she burst out sobbing afresh and turned to Lady Everleigh. Surely, madam, you will not turn me out to starve. Do let me stay. What is a month longer! I ' ll do anything for you, madam. The Lady Everleigh merely tightened her lips, elevated her eyebrows, and gazed in front of her. Enough of this, snapped Lord Everleigh. Let us be off. The poor woman turned to walk to the house but her sobbing shook her body so violently that she leaned for support against the picket fence. This sight brought the tears to young Fred ' s eyes, — tears of love and pity, — tears of anger and hateful revenge. He had viewed the whole scene with bated breath and a sickeniug feeling of disas- ter. The sight of his poor mother in tears melted his heart with love. Again the sight of the Lord coldly turning away his own dear mother like a troublesome insect, sent such a flow of angry, resentful blood surging through his veins that his hands fairly trembled. A great feeling for revenge, a lust to strike overpowered him and probably he would have done something foolish, had not the coach suddenly rolled away. Seeing his mother alone weeping by the fence, he swallowed his quivering emotions and tearful himself, walked towards her. Slipping his arm around her, he drew her quietly into the house. After a time she became quieter and Fred taking her hand tried to comfort her. Mother, please don ' t take it so hard. We ' ll get along all right. I ' m going down to Yorkshire next week. You know father always said I ' d make a good jockey, — I can even ride pretty well now and look how light I am. No, dear, cried his mother anxious- ly clasping her child in her arms, you cannot go down to that rough place. You ' ll surely be hurt. No, you must stay with me. You ' re all I have left. But father always said I was made for a jockey. Why! there are boys younger than I am, riding the horses down there. I have always wanted to get to work to help you and to-day the time lias come. I miist go, mother. It was Saturday afternoon, a week before the great Yorkshire Handicap, for which there was a purse of 5000. A larger crowd than usual was in attendance at the race course. Much interest was evinced in the afternoon races, but most of the talk centered in the great handicap of the coming Satur- day. The latest news on this event and

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THE REDWOOD stretch, Firefly and Huckleberry in in the lead, exclaimed McEaren, gazing through his binoculars. On the turn. Firefly and Huckleberry still in the lead. Galatea coming up. Say, look at that horse Galatea coming. Great Scott! Here they are on the stretch and Galatea and Firefly running together. Say, ain ' t that a keen finish. Yes, sir, she ' s done it. Galatea by a neck! A great shout went up from the crowd and for a time confusion reigned, — a long shot had won and the favorite was beaten. The horses now came trotting back to the judges ' stand and the riders were dismounting. When Galatea appeared, her rider was honored with a great clapping and cheering. The young jockey raised his whip, tipped his cap and slipped oflf gracefully. What the devil ' s that jockey ' s name? exclaimed Eord Everleigh excit- edly. Wilson, answered McEaren. He ' s been riding second raters around here for a long time. Quick, McEaren, send him over here to the club-house. That ' s our man. We ' ll fix it up right away. McEaren had scarcely left when Eady Everleigh approached. Did you see that piece of riding? she exclaimed. We must consider him at once, Henry. Yes, I ' ve just sent for him, answered Everleigh. Eet us go into the club- house and wait for him. Presently McEaren entered the room with the young jockey. The boy glanced at the occupants, then stared and colored deeply; for he knew that he stood before the man and woman who had turned his poor mother away two years before. Eord Everleigh and his wife who were talking earnestly about prices, failed to notice this. Everleigh looked up now and came right to the point. Young man, 300, win or lose next Saturday to ride my horse. Winsome Win, and an extra purse of ; 20O, if you win. The lad ' s thoughts were not of horses or money, and he kept gazing vacantly at the Eord. Taking this hesitation for non-acceptance, Everleign added, Well then, how will £350 suit you? Do you accept? Sure, sir, answered the lad quickly, rousing himself. I accept. Well, sign this then, — and be at my stables to-morrow to try the pony out. Fred Martin departed that evening with his brain in a whirl. He was to ride in the great Yorkshire Handicap and for Eord Everleigh, — for the man who had cruelly turned his mother out to beg or starve two years before. The picture of the one he loved dearest sobbing bitterly by a picket fence rose to his mind, and with it the old feeling of anger and hatred. The lust for revenge again overcame him and he almost cried out in his excitement, for he i: « ( revenge his mother now. At last he had Eord Everleigh in his power. The more he thought of it, the more he reveled in it. How easy he could hold the horse in and give her any place he wished. Picture after picture passed through his mind of the many different ways h e