'Not a bit of it; ask your father,' said Dr Tom.

Willie looked at Jim Dennis, and his father said,--

'How would you like to ride Neptune in the cup? Do you think you could manage him?'

The lad clapped his hands.

'Manage him!' he cried. 'Why, I can do anything with Neptune. Will you let me ride him?'

'Yes, my lad, you shall ride him, win or lose. I'll risk it, although you are only a youngster.'

Willie capered with delight and ran outside, followed by the doctor's dog.

'Come along, Baalim,' shouted Willie. 'We'll have a rare romp over this.'

Away they went towards Neptune's box, the dog scampering after him in his usual clumsy fashion.

'Bless the lad, how full of life he is!' said Dr Tom. 'I take quite a fatherly interest in him. I guess he's half mine, because I saved his life.'

'Do you think I shall ever forget it?' asked Jim.

'No, old pal, I don't think you will; but there are people who regard a doctor as a mere instrument, a thing to play upon and tune to their own fancy. If he cures, well and good, and he doesn't get any credit for it, and sometimes no pay. If he fails--well, if it hadn't been for that clumsy, blundering fool of a doctor--you know the rest, Jim.'

'You are a clever fellow, and you are wasting the best years of your life in a hole like Swamp Creek,' said Jim.

'I'm not a clever fellow. I might have been. I had every chance. I drifted, old man, just drifted. Do you know my besetting sin?'

'Didn't know you had any sins,' said Jim.

'I have, and the worst of the lot is a constant "it isn't-worth-the-bother" sort of feeling. If it had not been for that I might have got on. As a medical student I was quick at learning, too quick. Things came so easily to me that I never bothered about 'em.

That's not the way to get on. It's the plodders beat all chaps like me.'

'Nonsense!' said Jim. 'You never value yourself at your true worth.'

'I believe you are right, although I'm not conceited enough to let the world think so. By gad, Jim, I'd like a chance, a big chance. Something with danger in it. Something I might risk my life in to benefit my fellow-creatures. Do you know, Jim Dennis, I'm always hovering on the verge of a grand discovery, and it never comes off. When I have it all fixed up nicely, and think this is the thing, the whole blessed fabric topples over, and I am buried in the ruins of my own fancies.'

'But you manage to scramble out of the _debris_,' said Jim.

'That's just it. I scramble out of the _debris_ and commence to pick up the best part of the breakages. It's the piecing 'em together again, Jim, that troubles a fellow. They never seem to fit in, or to stick together when they are fixed up,' said Dr Tom, dreamily.

Jim Dennis knew Tom Sheridan had grit in him. He knew that no man had a braver heart or n.o.bler courage, if put to the test, but it would be an uncommonly hard test, to bring out those qualities to their fullest extent.

A disappointed man Dr Tom Sheridan certainly was not, nor was he an unhappy man. He was too good for Swamp Creek, and yet it was good for the Creek for him to be there.

'Look at that youngster,' said Dr Tom, suddenly.

Jim Dennis turned round and saw his son leading Neptune out of his box, and the doctor's dog following at his heels.

The horse seemed to place implicit confidence in his young guide, and walked sedately and quietly.

'You would never think Neptune had such a deuce of a temper to look at him now,' said Jim.

CHAPTER XIII

SPECULATION

Never had there been such excitement over the Swamp Creek Cup. The stake was good, as country stakes go, and in addition to this a splendid entry had been obtained, and Dr Tom prophesied that at least fourteen or fifteen runners would face him when he held the flag, for in addition to being secretary, stake holder and general manager, the doctor was also the starter.

It spoke well for his reputation for fairness that he gave universal satisfaction in these various departments, and had he been able to get back from the starting post in time, he would undoubtedly have been appointed judge.

The local bookmaker at Swamp Creek had already commenced operations, and a horse from Bourke named First Cla.s.s was favourite. This worthy penciller owned the Gum Tree Hotel, and his name was Aaron Hyam. He was of the persuasion indicated by his Christian name, and as his eldest son and clerk was called Moses, there was no reason to doubt it when he said if ever he had a daughter, or rather his wife had, he should call her Rachel.

Aaron Hyam was a well-to-do man. Old Ned Glenn, the coach driver, said Aaron had made his money mainly through his good offices, because he invariably persuaded pa.s.sengers to stop at the Gum Tree Hotel.

'The money I have put into that man's pocket would keep me comfortably for life,' he growled; 'and the mean son of Jerusalem has never had the decency to tip me more than a fiver.'

Aaron Hyam's hotel was the resort of the Swamp Creek folk and the whole of the better-cla.s.s people for many miles around. It was quite a different place from Potter's Shanty, and for a country hotel was respectably kept even in those rough and often lawless times.

The astute Aaron worked his cards well and was in good odour even with such men as Dalton's gang. He likewise kept well in with the police, and Sergeant Machinson was a supporter of his.

A fortnight before the race for the Swamp Creek Cup, two or three bookmakers from Bathurst, Bourke and Orange arrived in the place and put up at Hyam's hotel.

Aaron would have preferred to have the manipulating of the market to himself, but as he could not very well do this, he had to remain contented with fleecing the visitors to his hotel as best he might.

One of these bookmakers was a friend of the owner of First Cla.s.s, and he remonstrated with Aaron for making that animal favourite.

'He's never done much, only won a bit of a handicap at Bathurst,' said Price James, the friend of the owner. 'What do you make him favourite for?'

'That's my business,' said Aaron. 'If you care to lay longer odds, do so. Four to one is quite enough for me to lay against a horse like First Cla.s.s amongst our lot. Why, his name gives him away at once! Had you called him Third Cla.s.s, or No Cla.s.s, it would have been different, but First Cla.s.s--well, four to one is a very fair price against a horse with such a name.'

Rodney Shaw had two horses entered, both by Seahorse. They were named Seaweed and Distant Sh.o.r.e, and he fancied one of them would win.

When Ben Madsley heard from Jim Dennis that he was going to let his son Willie ride Neptune he laughed, and thought to himself,--

'I'll frighten the life out of the youngster before the flag falls.'

Rodney Shaw engaged the jockey to ride the better of his pair, and gave him his choice.

After a trial at Cudgegong, Ben Madsley selected Distant Sh.o.r.e as his mount, and the horse certainly galloped remarkably well.

No sooner did it become known that Jim Dennis had decided to put his son up, when long odds, comparatively speaking, were offered against Neptune in the betting.

Aaron Hyam thought this was a particularly good chance of making a bit without much risk, and when anyone wished to back Neptune he was always ready to lay a fair price.