score of youthful faces darting sidelong
glances in their direction is the particular one he is meant to be
saluting. At last in the press they stumble upon one boy at close
quarters, whom Cusack the younger captures forthwith.

"Ah, Pil, I was looking for you. Here's the--my father, I mean--R.N.,
you know."

"How are you, captain?" says the newcomer. He had heard Captain Cusack
was coming over, and had mentally rehearsed several times what it seemed
to him would be the most appropriate salutation under the circumstances.

The captain says he is very well, and likes the look of Mr "Pil" (whose
real name is Pilbury), and looks forward to a little pleasant chat with
his son's friend. But this hope is doomed to be a disappointment, for
Pil is in a hurry.

"Just going to get the house tubs ready," he says; "I'll be back in time
for the mile."

"Then is the hurdles over?"

"Rather!" exclaims Pil, in astonishment. "Why, where have you been? Of
course you know who won?"

"No," says Cusack, eagerly--"who?"

"Why, Wyndham! You never saw such a race! At the fourth hurdle from
home Wyndham, Bloomfield, Game, Tipper, and Rawson were the only ones
left in. Game and Tipper muffed the jump, and it was left to the other
three. Bloomfield had cut out grandly. He was a yard or two ahead,
then Wyndham, and the London man lying out, ten yards behind. He had
been going pretty easily, but he lammed it on for the next hurdle, and
pulled up close. The three went over almost even, and then Bloomfield
was out of it. My eye, Cusack! you should have seen the finish after
that! The London fellow fancied he was going to win in a canter, but
old Wyndham stuck to him like a leech, and after the last fence ran him
clean down--the finest thing you ever saw--and won by a yard. Wasn't it
prime? Ta, ta! I'm off now; see you again at the mile;" and off he
goes.

The glorious victory of Willoughby at the hurdles has evidently been as
much of a surprise as it has been a triumph, and everyone is full of
hope now that the result of the "mile" may be equally satisfactory. In
the midst of all the excitement and enthusiasm it suddenly occurs to the
business-like Master Cusack that he had better secure a good position
for the great race without delay, and accordingly he pilots his father
out of the crush, and makes for a spot near the winning-post, where the
crowd at the cords has a few gaps; and here, by a little unscrupulous
shoving