When he had thoroughly recovered from his illness Willie Dennis rapidly became strong, and now at twelve years of age was a fine, healthy lad.

Like his father, he was a good horseman, and already, even at this early age, he could ride any horse on the station. He had, as it were, been born and bred in the saddle, for ever since he could remember he was accustomed to ride about with his father.

It was the lad's ambition to be a jockey, and win a good race for his father. He did not mean to ride for everyone, there was no occasion for that; all he wanted was to be on the back of his father's horses when they ran in races.

Jim went in for breeding blood stock during the past few years, and had several promising youngsters by Seahorse, and Rodney Shaw was rather jealous at Dennis's stock turning out better than his own.

'I was a fool to allow him to mate those mares with Seahorse. I ought to have kept the blood for myself, especially after the trouble it cost me to procure it.' He forgot that, had it not been for Jim Dennis, he would probably have lost the horse altogether.

Rodney Shaw had been to Wanabeen several times, and of late his visits had been more frequent. He was an unprincipled man, and once he coveted anything he tried all in his power to possess it.

Of one thing he envied Jim Dennis, and that was his possession of the half-caste woman Sal. Rodney Shaw laughed at the idea of this woman living under Dennis's protection and being sacred to him. He had been a.s.sured such was the case by people who knew the life the owner of Wanabeen led, but he laughed at the a.s.surance and said he knew better than that.

On one occasion he had, in a roundabout way, asked Jim Dennis if he would part with her, and hinted at a consideration. The look Dennis gave him made him quail, and he stammered out a lame excuse that he meant no offence, and that, of course, a black woman could not be regarded in the same light as a white.

'Black Sal has been more faithful to me than the white woman, and for no recompense. She has been a mother to my boy ever since my wife left me.'

Rodney Shaw started, and looked uneasily at the speaker. He had heard but little of Jim Dennis's past life, and the owner of Wanabeen seldom alluded to his troubled matrimonial experiences.

'I did not know you had been married,' he said.

'Yes,' replied Jim, bitterly, and then unburdened himself of his wretched story. It did him good to talk about it sometimes, relieved his feelings and revived his desire for vengeance on the man who had wronged him.

'It would go hard with that man if you came across him?' said Rodney Shaw.

'Yes, it would go hard with him.'

'Perhaps he did not know she was a wife--your wife. She may have deceived him, as she did you.'

'Make no excuses for him,' said Jim Dennis. 'Wife or no wife, he must have wronged her, because he could not marry her. That is enough for me.

Only let me come across him, anywhere, and at any time.'

Rodney Shaw was glad he was not that man.

Young Willie Dennis had ridden over to Cudgegong many times, and Rodney Shaw made him welcome. He seemed to like the lad, and enjoyed his prattle. He learned a good deal of the life they led at Wanabeen from him, and gathered that black Sal was indeed a mother to the lad.

In his heart, however, he wished to possess her, and wondered how best to accomplish his end. It would be difficult to attain, but he had in his life overcome many such difficulties, and his victims rued the day they met him.

Country race meetings in those days were carried on with an amount of enthusiasm the ordinary phlegmatic race-goer of to-day would fail to understand.

The whole district for miles round was roused, and there was earnest rivalry between owners of horses to win events for which only a few pounds, or a cup of small value, were given as a stake.

It was mainly through the exertions of Jim Dennis, backed by Dr Tom Sheridan, who acted as secretary, that the Swamp Creek races had become so popular and successful. Two meetings were held during the year, and five events decided on each occasion. The chief interest, however, centred in the Swamp Creek Cup, and this year it was to be of the value of two hundred pounds, and a silver cup.

Rodney Shaw had increased his popularity by giving half this stake, and it had been a comparatively easy matter for the enthusiastic Dr Tom to collect the money necessary to provide for the other event. Jim Dennis had a laudable desire to win this cup, and he had a horse he thought possessed a first-rate chance, if properly and carefully trained.

The difficulty at these meetings was to obtain a good rider, and Jim Dennis wished his son had been a year or two older, and had more experience, so that he might have the mount on Neptune, the horse he thought might win.

Neptune was by Seahorse, and his dam, La Perouse, was one of Jim's best mares. He was a grey, a beautiful colour, and uncommon in race-horses.

'There are not many good greys,' said Jim; 'but once you do get a good one that colour he is generally an out and outer.'

He thought this description applied to Neptune, whose fault was that he inherited a good deal of the temper his sire displayed on a memorable occasion at Wanabeen.

The grey stood sixteen hands high, or a shade over, and was powerfully built, and no fault could be found with his shape in any respect. He was fast as the wind, and, moreover, could stay, and was sound in wind and limb.

If carefully handled he seldom displayed much temper, but it was in him all the same, and great caution had to be exercised to keep it in check.

Neptune had taken a great fancy to Willie, and the lad could do almost anything with him.

It gladdened Jim Dennis's heart to see his boy perched on the grey's back, and he watched them with pride as Neptune went a long, striding gallop with his light burden.

'If I could only persuade myself Willie would not lose his head in the race, I would let him ride the horse, but it is too much to expect a lad of his age to keep cool in the midst of so much excitement. If I put Ben Madsley up, he's as likely as not to ruffle the horse's temper, and then farewell to all chance of winning. I have a good mind to put Willie up and risk it, although I shall be laughed at and called a fool. If he won, the laugh would be on my side, I reckon.'

It wanted a month to the day of the races, and Neptune was doing splendid work, being ridden each day by Willie Dennis.

Jim rode over to Swamp Creek to consult Dr Tom. That worthy man of many occupations was, as usual, glad to see Jim. Since the day he saved Abe Dalton from death, the leader of the gang had kept his word, and Jim Dennis and his belongings had not been molested.

Jim was surprised at this, because he knew how Dalton would feel about him in the matter of rescuing Rodney Shaw's horse from his clutches. He did not know he owed this immunity to Dr Tom, and the doctor took good care he should not learn it from him.

'Well, Jim, and what's the news? How does Neptune fare, and is Willie all right?' said Dr Tom.

'Everything is going on splendidly,' said Jim. 'The horse could not be doing better, and Willie's as fit as a fiddle. I'm in a bit of a fix, though.'

'Not short of money surely?' said Dr Tom.

'No, not that,' laughed Jim. 'There is not much chance of throwing money about freely at Wanabeen.'

'I suppose not,' replied the doctor. 'In Swamp Creek there would not appear to be much chance of spending to the casual outsider's vision, but it's wonderful how the money goes even here. I'm always hard up, and blessed if I know how it happens. What do you think Alf Sn.i.g.g.e.rs asked me this morning?'

'I don't know, could not even make a guess at it,' said Jim. 'He's a funny chap is Sn.i.g.g.e.rs.'

'He owes me an account, and he wanted to know if I'd take a bullock in payment. Now what the deuce is the good of a bullock to me? I couldn't sell it--everyone round here wants to sell, not to buy. There's no chance of eating it, and, being of the wrong s.e.x, there's no milk to be got out of it, and, in fact, it would be on my hands and a perfect nuisance. I explained these little facts to Sn.i.g.g.e.rs, and what do you think he said?'

'Out with it,' laughed Jim.

'The beggar said that any doctor who wouldn't swop a few dirty drugs for a real live bullock must be a fool, and he "wouldn't have nothing more to say to him." Upon my word, Jim, he went away in a high state of indignation, for all the world as though I had done him an injury.'

'Did he settle the account?' asked Jim, laughing.

'Not he. I have put it down in my third volume of bad debts,' said Dr Tom, mournfully. 'But what's your trouble? I was forgetting about that.'

'It's not exactly a trouble, it's a difficulty,' said Jim. 'I don't know who to put up on Neptune in the race. Madsley will ride for me, but he's got a queer temper, and a rider with a nasty temper and a horse with a nasty temper generally have differences. If Madsley and Neptune happened to differ in the race, or just before it, and commenced to argue the matter, there would be no cup or two hundred sovs. for me.'

Dr Tom looked thoughtful, and shook his head.

'I don't think I'd risk putting Madsley up.'

'But who the deuce am I to put up?'