"Don't you be too sure, young man," said someone behind him. "I've seen Jack do a good couple of miles several times lately."
"I won't go so far as that, but I reckon he'll put up a good fight," answered the stranger: then asked, "What have you backed?"
"A friend of mine's on him. He fancies him a lot. Knows his owner, I believe."
"So do I. He's not much to know," remarked Bill.
"Look!" cried Jim. "Barellan and the favourite are going up."
Glen Leigh saw the move on Nicholl's part. His heart was in his mouth. The jockey had just squeezed Barellan through on the rails and the favourite had to go on the outside. As they neared the home turn the crowd shouted. The names of half a dozen horses rang out clearly over the course.
Jack was first into the straight. He had made all the running and was still going strong. Glen wondered if they would get on terms with him.
Isaac, finding an opening, dashed through. The Derby winner was bound to be thereabouts. He had run well and was coming out at the right time; his rider's pink jacket and white cap showed conspicuously.
Mackay's jockey pushed his mount and ran into third place, behind Jack and Isaac. They were all in the straight now, thirty-one runners, and the centre lot, numbering about a score, were all of a heap. The jackets looked bunched together, a many-hued mass of colour.
Barellan lost his position on the rails as they rounded the bend. He was not forced out but ran wide. Nicholl, taken by surprise at this move, thought it must be his leg pained him, and he wanted more room. He grew anxious. There was a slight faltering on Barellan's part. He must be nursed carefully or he might break down, and nursing at this critical point, when every horse with a chance was making a run, spelt defeat, being left behind. As it was Barellan fell back when he ought to have come into the front rank.
Glen Leigh's hand shook as he held his glasses. The sky-blue jacket was right away at the end of the middle division. Barellan's chance looked forlorn. His hopes were shattered; the thousands vanished into thin air; it was what he might have expected. How could he win with only a sovereign invested? It was absurd on the face of it. He was foolish to buoy himself with false hopes. He had raised a mirage in which he saw happiness and full content. Now it vanished and would never appear again.