together,
the mare lying between the rails and her stable-companion.

As the field swung left-handed and passed parallel to the Grand Stand on
the far side of the course, the light-weights were still well together
in front and bunched like a covey of partridges. Then came the favourite
and her stable-companion, rising fence for fence; after them a chain of
stragglers; and bringing up the rear, rollicking along with his head in
his chest, revelling in his work, the twenty-to-one outsider.

"So far so good," said Mat, "as the man said when he was 'alf-way
through cuttin' his throat."

The American contingent breathed afresh, and the bookies were looking
glum. Once over Beecher's Brook the first time round, with half the
field down, the chance of a knock-out reduced, and Gee-Woa and
Kingfisher grazing peacefully under the Embankment, the favourite's
chances had greatly increased.

True, the gray Moonlighter in the cerise and white was in the lead and
going like a snowstorm; but not a man among the tens of thousands on the
course who did not know that four miles and a half was a mile too much
for the Irishman.

"What price the favourite?" roared the Boys.

"Threes," said the bookies, and gave them grudgingly.

"They're settlin' down to it now," muttered Old Mat. "Favourite's goin'
strong. Gallops like a engine, don't she? I like to see her."

Those who were watching through their glasses marked that a fence before
the Canal Turn the star-spangled jacket and the purple and gold seemed
to be taking council together.

"Goin' to turn on the tap now, you'll see," said the old man.

He was right.

Chukkers, indeed, never varied the way he rode his races on the mare. In
truth, part of his greatness as a jockey lay in the fact that he adapted
his methods to his horse. Very early in his connection with Mocassin he
had discovered the unfailing way to make the most of her. It was said of
him that he always won his victories on her in the first half-mile. That
was an exaggeration; but it was the fact that he invariably sat down to
race at a time when other jockeys were just settling in their saddles.
At Liverpool he always began to ride the mare after Valentine's Brook
first time round, and had beaten his field and won his race long before
he began the second lap.

As it chanced, too, the mare's fiery spirit suited exactly the daring
temperament of the great horseman. The invincible couple waited behind
till the ranks b