"You may, but you'll not find it easy; mine's a real good horse," was the reply.
They sprang off together, at top speed in a few strides, and it was evident the mile would be covered in fast time. Southerly Buster was a clinker over the distance, holding the Australian record for a mile, a generous horse, always willing to do his best. The Duke had a temper, but Colley knew his peculiarities and humored him. The horse had a bad habit; getting off well, he generally slackened speed after going a couple of furlongs. He did so on this occasion and Southerly Buster gained a length or more, much to the consternation of backers of Alan's horse. At the end of four furlongs the Australian had increased his lead and still The Duke held back. Colley was anxious. The Duke had a tremendous turn of speed, but nearly three lengths was a lot to make up in half a mile.
The black, orange hoops and cap were conspicuous; Bernard Hallam fancied they would be as successful here as in Australia.
Jack Wrench had a habit of giving a long and prolonged whoop when he felt sure of a horse's victory. He proclaimed his confidence in Southerly Buster in a manner causing people near to laugh heartily. Hallam heard the well-known cry and it increased his hopes of winning.
Alan was disappointed so far at The Duke's form. He knew Colley was not quite as good as Bradley in a match, although his judgment was excellent, hardly ever at fault.
They were two furlongs from the winning-post and Tommy wondered when The Duke would put on full pressure; it was high time if he were to win. He dare not hit him, not at present; a few strides from the post it was generally effective because The Duke had no time to think things over and sulk. Just as Colley was beginning to despair and becoming desperate he felt The Duke bound under him, and in a few seconds the whole aspect of the race changed. So sudden was the move that Alan gasped. Eve clutched his arm in her excitement.
"By Jove, he's coming and no mistake!" exclaimed Alan.
"Splendid!" said Eve. "What wonderful speed--but will he catch him?"
"Whoop, whoop, whoop!" came from Jack Wrench--three sharp, piercing cries; but there seemed to be a note of alarm in the last, it died away suddenly.