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It was a sight to last a lifetime, and that was what I meant it to be for me. The race was all Flamingo's own, and the mob was going wild, when all of a sudden a woman the widow of a racing-man gone suddenly mad rushed out in front of the horse, snatched at its bridle with a shrill cry and down she came, and down Flamingo and the jockey came, a melee of crushed humanity.
The English racing-man picks out a promising colt or filly; he finds that he has a swift and good animal, and he resolves to bring off some vast gambling coup. Patiently, cunningly, month after month, the steps in the plan are matured; the horse runs badly until the official handicappers think it is worthless, and the gambler at last finds that he has some great prize almost at his mercy.
The train bounded and swung as though rushing onwards to a tune, and George sat quietly in his corner. Amongst his fellows in the carriage was the Hon. Geoffrey Winlow, who, though not a racing-man, took a kindly interest in our breed of horses, which by attendance at the principal meetings he hoped to improve. "Your horse going to run, George?" George nodded.
They swallow their whisky with a quick gesture look at their watches, stand up hurriedly and part with handshakes. Then comes a drive to the railway station where race-cards are being sold. The racing-man buys a "card" and several papers.
Her high-heeled boots trod on his. He seemed one with her. Then she had vanished, and instantly he was in the arms of a huge racing-man, who wore gigantic pink pearls in his shirt front, and bellowed the latest slang to a thin and dissipated companion.
The Ambler awaited the end of that brief caress, then with a snort threw up his head, and with his wild, soft eyes seemed saying, 'You fools! what do you know of me? George stepped to one side. "Take him away," he said, and his eyes followed the Ambler's receding form. A racing-man of a different race, whom he knew and did not like, came up to him as he left the paddock.
It was a sight to last a lifetime, and that was what I meant it to be for me. The race was all Flamingo's own, and the mob was going wild, when all of a sudden a woman the widow of a racing-man gone suddenly mad rushed out in front of the horse, snatched at its bridle with a shrill cry and down she came, and down Flamingo and the jockey came, a melee of crushed humanity.
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