The Second String

Joe Kirby, who trained for Barry Tuxford, watched Jack critically. He had not much faith in amateur riders, especially new chums, but he soon saw Jack Redland was a good way beyond the average. Lucky Boy, he thought, had never gone so well before, and this was the opinion of Willie, when he dismounted, and the black boy looked at Jack admiringly.

Barry Tuxford was immensely pleased. He had no idea Jack could ride so well, and he thought Captain Seagrave was right when he said he was too good for pearl fishing.

"It does a fellow good to get on the back of a decent horse again," said Jack, as he patted Lucky Boy's neck.

"What do you think of him?" asked Barry.

"A very good mover, not particularly fast, but I should think he was a good stayer."

"He is, Mr. Redland," said Joe Kirby. "He can stay any distance, and over a couple of miles he would wear a faster horse than himself down."

"I daresay you are right," replied Jack. "Has he won any races?"

"A couple of minor handicaps at the Turf Club meeting, but no race of any value. He is generally in at a nice weight," said Barry.

"He won a Welter, too," said Joe.

"So he did, I forgot that. Carried ten seven, I think," said Barry.

"I don't know what I weigh now," said Jack, "but I could easily go to scale at ten stone at home, and less if required."

"Then you have ridden in England?" said the trainer, somewhat surprised.

"Oh, yes, scores of times. I was almost at the top of the tree one year. I won a race at Lewes a few days before I sailed for Fremantle."

"I thought you knew how to handle a horse when you threw your legs across Lucky Boy," replied Joe.

"That's Dongara," said Barry, as a grey came along alone. "He's got a bit of a temper. Gives Joe a lot of trouble, I'm afraid; but we keep pegging away at him because we think there's something in him, and a clever man chose him for me in Sydney. He cost more than he's worth, I fancy, and he's had adventures; the beggar was ship-wrecked, and had to swim ashore."

Jack glanced at the grey, and liked his appearance.

"May I ride him?" he asked.

Barry looked at the trainer, who smiled as he replied —

"If Mr. Redland will risk being thrown off there can be no objection; but it is only fair he should be warned what sort of a horse he is."

"As bad as that, is it?" laughed Jack. "Let me try my hand. I have ridden some nasty horses in my time; if he throws me he's welcome to any satisfaction he may get out of it."

Dongara was brought up, and when the lads saw the new chum was going to ride him they grinned at his expense in anticipation of some exciting fun.

It was exciting enough while it lasted, but could hardly be called fun; it was a battle in grim earnest, and the youngsters looked on in amazement.

Dongara first tried to bolt, and Jack let him have his head for a couple of miles, but did not allow him to forget who was master. This did not exactly suit the horse, who generally had his own way with the lads.

"He's holding him," said Joe. "That's more than I expected he would do."

At the end of a stiff gallop Dongara gave in, but he was not at the end of his experiment. He lashed out suddenly, then stood up and pawed the air; but a blow between the ears brought him down to a less exalted attitude. Then he tried to savage his rider, and got his nose kicked for his trouble.

At the end of half-an-hour Dongara consented to gallop like a well mannered thoroughbred, and it was evident Jack had him under control.

"You handled him splendidly," said Barry approvingly.

"He's a good horse," said Jack, "but, as you say, he has a very bad temper. It will take more than I have given him to cure him; but I could tame him in time. Where did you say he came from?"

"Sydney. Joel Kenley bought him for me."

"Joel Kenley!" exclaimed Jack. "That's very strange; his brother trained Topsy Turvy, the last horse I rode before I left England. I am going to look him up if ever I get as far as Sydney."

"You'll find Joel a decent sort, and well up in his business," said Barry.

Jack enjoyed the change thoroughly, and went back with Barry, eager to hear what he had to propose about racing.

Barry Tuxford was not long in coming to the point.

"There is not much to be won here," he said, "and after our meeting next month I thought of taking a trip to Sydney. Will you go with me?"

"With pleasure," replied Jack. "It is just what I should like."

"Harry Marton can go back with the pearling fleet, and you can have a share of the plunder. By the time we have finished our jaunt, Silas may have captured the black pearl for you."

"I hope so," said Jack. "I have set my heart on getting it."

"It's not much use taking any horses, they are too good for us there, although I should like to take them down on their own ground with a nag from West Australia."

"Why not take Lucky Boy? He ought to be good enough to win a long distance race, and he would get a light weight."

"We might do that, but I am afraid he would not pay his expenses. He'd come in all right as a second string if I bought something good; do to bring 'em along, and make the pace sound for the other fellow."

"I should say you would have some difficulty in finding a better horse to lead another at exercise, or as you suggest, to ensure a good pace throughout a long race. I have often seen the second string beat the first when he has been run merely as an assistant," said Jack.

"Will you sell half your shares in the Great Tom mine?" asked Barry.

"Yes, if you advise me to do so, and the money will come in handy for racing."

"If you are going to bet with it, keep it locked up where it is, it will be safer there."

"Then you are no believer in backing horses?"

"Not to win much money. Of course, I like to have a flutter for the fun of the thing, most sportsmen do," said Barry.

"When do you intend leaving here?"

"As soon as we have got the fleet away again. I must see Rank, and the two skippers, and come to terms with them."

When Barry went to Fremantle, to arrange for the return of the schooners to the bay, Jack wrote a reply to Winifred's letter. It was a long epistle, and in it he gave her an account of his adventures with the pearling schooners.

"It was a rough life, but I did not dislike it, and the finding of pearls is very exciting. I did not intend to tell you of this incident, but I cannot keep it to myself, and I know you have too much good sense to be disappointed if it does not turn out as I wish. One day I found a beautiful black egg shaped pearl in a large shell. It was perfect – not a flaw in it, and I was bewildered at its beauty, for they are very rare. I thought how nice it would be to send it to you as a token you were not forgotten. Forgotten! Why Winnie, I am always thinking of you and of the last time I saw you on the terrace, with your arms outstretched, pleading to me to come back, or I fancied so. 'Like his conceit,' I hear you say.

"There is an old pearl dealer here; a regular character, looks like a cross between a Jew pawn-broker and a Christian cabdriver. He's very rich, so my friend, Barry Tuxford, says. (Barry's a splendid fellow – a regular colonial. I am sure you would like him.) His name is Silas Filey – how do you fancy it – and he bought up all our pearls before he left the schooner. He says he'll try and get the black pearl back, because he knows the man we think persuaded the black fellow to steal it. If it is recovered Barry has promised I shall have it at a fair price, and I mean to send it you. Its story and adventures will interest you, and when you look at it, if ever you have the luck, it will remind you of 'the failure' far away in Australia.

"I am commencing to think, Win, that I am not such a dire failure after all, for I have just made a big haul by an investment in the Great Tom mine, again thanks to Barry, and my share of the pearls and shell will be considerable. Tell Sir Lester, Barry and myself are off to Sydney on a racing expedition, taking a horse called Lucky Boy with us, and that I shall also take the black jacket with orange sleeves I rode Topsy Turvy in with me, and if I get a chance either wear them myself, or put them up on a good one. We are sanguine of doing some good before we return.

"I am sure Captain Seagrave would enjoy himself and amuse you both if he paid a visit to The Downs. He's a rare good sort, and as large-hearted and brave as only a British seaman can be. Write to the G.P.O., Sydney, next time, that is, if you still have a corner in your heart for me. I should like to say something, Win, but wait until I come home, and then I will tell you my secret. Guess it if you can."

CHAPTER NINETEENTH

A STAB IN THE DARK

The friends separated, Harry Marton going to the bay with the augmented pearling fleet, Jack and Barry Tuxford journeying to Sydney by one of the mail steamers, taking Lucky Boy with them. Before following their fortunes in New South Wales it will be interesting to learn how Amos Hooker managed to secure the black pearl.

When they reached the shore from the schooner "Heron," Amos kept good control over his temper and said no more about the pearl to Kylis. He was anxious to see the "Heron" leave the bay without the loss being discovered. He thought it better to remain on shore and not return to the boat.

The following morning he looked across the bay from his tent, and saw the "Heron" had put out to sea. This suited his purpose, and he set out to hunt up the blacks, putting a revolver in his pocket in case it was wanted. Amos Hooker had risked his own life too often to have much regard for the lives of others, and shooting an odd black or two would not trouble his conscience. Kylis and Miah were useful to him, and he had no wish to harm them, but he meant having the black pearl, and at his own price. The divers had a good trip and were paid well, he got them the job, and it was only fair he should have the pearl.

Kylis saw him coming, and prepared for a row, he knew Amos feared him more than any other man, but possession of the black pearl was much in his favour; he said to himself he would smash it sooner than let Amos have it for a mere trifle.

"The schooner has gone," said Amos. "They have not discovered the loss of the pearl."

"They may put back when they do," replied Kylis.

"No fear of that, they are not certain we have it."

"They can form a good idea," said Miah.

"Look here," replied Amos, "you had better dry up, you are out of this deal."

"Am I, ask him?" he said, pointing to Kylis, "we talked it over during the night, and I am to have my share."

"It won't be a large cut in," replied Amos.

"If you are fair and square, you shall have it," said Kylis. "I want some money down, and more when it is sold."

"How much do you want?"

"Twenty pounds each," said Kylis.

Amos swore they should have no such sum. "Forty pounds!" he exclaimed, "I may not get that for the pearl."

"You'll get a big lump for it," said Kylis.

"Hand it over and let me look at it."

The black laughed, and shook his head.

"Where is it?" asked Amos.

"Safe, you cannot find it."

"I have not come here to kick up a row, but I mean to handle that pearl; if you do not give it me I'll drive you out of the settlement; I can easily do it, most of them would rather have your room than your company."

"Much good it would do you," replied Kylis, "because the pearl would go with us."

"Will you hand it over?"

"For twenty pounds each, and twenty more when you sell it."

"I'll not give it. Hand it over," said Amos, savagely, drawing his revolver.

"If you shoot you will never find it," said Kylis.

Amos levelled the weapon at him, and Miah slunk back to the other side of the tent.

Kylis did not quail, he was certain Amos would not shoot.

"If you don't put the revolver down I'll smash the pearl," said the black.

Amos lowered it and said, with an evil scowl —

"I have not so much money, I cannot give it you now. Listen to me. You cannot sell the pearl, I can, what is the good of keeping it?"

Kylis knew this was correct. Amos had a far better chance of disposing of it than they had.

"What will you give us?" asked Kylis.

"Ten pounds each, and twenty pounds each if I sell it for a good price."

Kylis called to Miah, who told him to take it.

They agreed to this, and Amos Hooker went to get the money, well satisfied with his bargain, for he had no intention of giving them any more money when he sold it.

When Amos left the tent Kylis said —

"We'll let him have it, I can get it back again."

"How?"

"Never mind. I'll have it or – "

"What?"

"I'll have his life. He's a brute."

Miah shivered, he knew Kylis would be as good as his word.

Amos came back with the money in gold, and placed it on a box.

"Now give me the pearl," he said. Kylis handed it to him, and snatched up the money.

Amos Hooker looked at the pearl for some time; he was surprised at its size and purity, he had never seen one like it before, it would be difficult to dispose of.

There was one man he might get a fair price from, Silas Filey, but he hardly knew how to approach him. Silas was acquainted with some of his past life and could make things very unpleasant for him if he chose.

He left the tent with the pearl, satisfied that he had in his possession a gem worth a thousand pounds at least. If he only ventured to Fremantle with it and offered it for open sale he would get much more; this, however, he dare not do.

How to communicate with Silas, that was the difficulty. He puzzled his brains to think how it could be done. Should he send a man from Shark's Bay to see him? There was no one he dare trust on such an errand, for although he was recognised as "the boss," he was more hated than feared, and there were none who would neglect an opportunity of benefiting themselves at his expense.

Some weeks went by, and he still had the pearl safely hidden away, and even Kylis had not been able to discover where it was concealed. Schooners from Fremantle often put into Shark's Bay, and one evening the "Swan" sailed in and anchored.

A boat came ashore from her, and a man inquired for Amos Hooker, and handed him a letter.

It was from Silas Filey, and he read it with difficulty. When he had fully understood its contents he flew into a furious passion. Silas had taken the bull by the horns with a vengeance, he knew his man and wrote accordingly. Had Barry Tuxford been at his elbow he might have gone about it in a different way, but it would not have proved so effective.

The letter stated clearly that he, Silas Filey, had definite information that Amos Hooker had in his possession a valuable black pearl, which had been stolen from Jack Redland, on board the schooner "Heron," by a black diver named Kylis. This diver had been sent out with the schooner to the pearl fisheries, in company with another black, named Miah, for the express purpose of committing a robbery, the proceeds of which were to be handed over to Amos Hooker.

Having given him a shock that he knew would stagger him, Silas went on to write —

"The black pearl must be handed over to the man who gives you this letter, or the consequences will be serious. The case of the 'Mary Hatchett' has not been forgotten in Fremantle, and there is such a thing as being placed on trial for murder on the high seas. I know you and your little games, Amos Hooker, and there is one of your intended victims here now, who would be only too glad to give evidence against you. The black steward of the 'Mary Hatchett' escaped, and he, too, is here, ready to swear your life away. There is an open warrant for your arrest out, and an officer on board the 'Swan' has it in his possession. He does not know you are at Shark's Bay, but if you do not give up the pearl my man has another letter which he will deliver to him; you can, no doubt, guess what its contents are. Hand over the pearl without any fuss and you shall receive one hundred pounds down and not a penny more. If you are wise you will do as I ask."

Amos Hooker glanced at the man who handed him the letter, he would have been glad to strangle him. He was in a tumult of rage and walked away to think over the letter and try and control himself.

"How long shall you be?" shouted the man. "We cannot wait here."

"I'll be back in half an hour," said Amos.

"Mind you bring it with you," was the reply.

"He knows all about it," thought Amos, and then, with a sudden fear, he muttered —

"He may be the man with the warrant. No, that's not likely, he'd remain on board. A hundred pounds for a pearl worth thousands, it's shameful."

He gave no thought to the manner in which it came into his possession, he grudged parting with it for such a paltry sum. It was, however, the best thing to do, in fact the only way. He would clear eighty pounds, which was better than nothing, and at the same time secure a powerful friend in Silas Filey, who might be very useful at another time if he chose. There was no help for it, no way out of the trap Silas had laid for him. That old affair of the "Mary Hatchett," if stirred up, would prove very bad for him, it might mean a halter round his neck, and there was a man on the "Swan" empowered to take him into custody.

He took the black pearl from its hiding place, and handled it fondly. What cursed luck it was to have to part with it in this way. No doubt Silas had been set on by Barry Tuxford to get the pearl back, it was a smart move on his part. He walked slowly back, and when he reached the boat, called the man on one side.

"You are to hand over a hundred pounds to me."

"In exchange for a black pearl, which has been described to me, and which I must see."

"Here it is."

The man examined it carefully, and was apparently satisfied with his scrutiny.

"Here is the money," he said, giving Amos a small, heavy bag. "You can count it if you like, but it is quite correct."

"It's a barefaced robbery, I have been forced into it," said Amos, in a rage.

The man laughed, as he replied —

"The robbery is on the wrong side this time, you are the victim."

Amos Hooker showered curses upon him as the boat put off for the schooner, with the precious pearl in the man's keeping.

Kylis came down to him, and Amos said —

"I have sold the pearl, here is the money," and he jangled the bag.

"How much?"

"One hundred pounds."

"You are a fool," said the black, savagely. "It is worth many hundreds."

"Which I could not get."

"We must have our share."

"Not a fraction," said Amos.

Contrary to his expectation the black walked away, and the evil look in his eyes caused Amos some uneasiness.

He shook off the feeling, and went to his tent, which was at the furthest end of the camp, away from that of the blacks.

He counted the gold, it was correct, one hundred pounds, neither more nor less. Hiding it under his bed he lay down to rest, intending to be up early in the morning and secure a safe place for it.

Kylis returned to his tent in a sullen mood, and Miah knew he was best left alone.

In the middle of the night the black stole out of the tent, leaving Miah asleep. He knew his way almost as well in the dark as by daylight. Keeping well to the rear of the camp he approached the tent of Amos Hooker noiselessly, carrying in his hand a big pearling knife. Lying on the ground he listened intently, but heard no sound. Crawling snake-like round the canvas he came to the opening, where he again stopped, listening. He peered into the darkness, but saw nothing. Crawling inside he felt his way cautiously, the slightest noise might rouse his intended victim.

His hand felt the rough mattress on which Amos Hooker lay. Kylis stood up, motionless, then bending down he found out how he lay by his breathing. His eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness, and he saw a faint outline of Hooker's form.

Suddenly, quickly, with a panther-like spring, Kylis was on top of the sleeping man. His strong left hand felt for the throat, and caught it in a grip of iron; the black raised his right hand and struck home at his victim's heart. A faint gurgling sound was heard, a convulsive shudder, and then Amos Hooker lay still for ever.

Kylis crawled about the tent hunting for the bag of gold. He dragged the body off the bed, pulled it over, and in another minute had the bag in his hand. He made his way out of the tent and disappeared in the darkness.

Next morning Amos Hooker was found stabbed to the heart, and Kylis had vanished.

Miah was questioned, but it was evident the terrified black knew nothing about the deed. Search was made for the murderer, but there was not much heart put into the work.

Some of the pearlers showed plainly they were not at all sorry Amos Hooker was gone from their midst. He had bullied everyone in the settlement and was generally disliked.

"I wonder what Kylis did it for," said one man.

"He had good reason for it, no doubt; Amos was a devil where blacks were concerned," answered another.

CHAPTER TWENTIETH

THE TRAINER'S SUGGESTION

When Jack Redland and Barry Tuxford arrived in Sydney, it was arranged that the former should go to Randwick and ascertain if Joel Kenley would take charge of Lucky Boy.

"He will probably have received a letter from his brother about you," said Barry, "and that will serve as an introduction."

Nothing loath, Jack went by train and found his way to Joel Kenley's house.

The trainer's stables were at lower Randwick, where he had a comfortable house and about a score horse boxes. Jack was favourably impressed with his first glimpse of the "Newmarket" of New South Wales. He saw the racecourse as the train went past and wound at a steady pace up the hill. He had no difficulty in finding Joel Kenley's, for the first man he asked said, in reply to his question, —

"Know where Joel lives, I should say so, there's not many people hereabouts do not know him."

"A celebrated trainer, is he?" asked Jack.

"You may well say that. He's won nearly all our big races at one time and another, and he's about as clever as any man can be with horses."

Jack thought his informant looked like an old jockey, and was about to ask him if his surmise was correct, when the man saved him the trouble by saying with a smile, —

"I see you have sized me up. I was a well known rider fifteen years ago, but I got too old fashioned, it's the young 'uns get all the luck in these days."

"I was going to ask you if you were a jockey," said Jack. "It does seem rather hard lines that a man who has given the best part of his life to his work should be discarded when he is old. I suppose you made sufficient to live on?"

The man shook his head as he replied, —

"There was not much chance, I got a fair amount of riding, but the fees did not amount to much, it is different here to the old country, where a jockey can earn thousands a year."

"I suppose so," said Jack.

"You are a new arrival here?"

"I am, I came out to Fremantle some months back."

"Fremantle? Then perhaps you know Mr. Tuxford – Barry Tuxford?"

Jack laughed as he replied —

"I ought to, he came here with me, we arrived the day before yesterday."

"That's strange now, very strange. He'll know me if you mention my name – Bricky Smiles. I once rode a horse for him here, at Sydney, before he was sent to Western Australia; it won, and I believe he backed it to win a good deal more than he gave for it, at any rate I had a nice present, he was more liberal than some owners I could name."

"I shall certainly tell him I met you," said Jack, "but I must hurry on, I am anxious to see Mr. Kenley."

"I'll walk down the hill with you if you like," said Bricky.

"Do," replied Jack, "I shall be glad of your company."

There was a cool breeze blowing from Coogee Bay which made it pleasant and refreshing, and Jack contrasted his present surroundings with those of his pearl fishing experiences. He liked the look of the place, and thought, as many have done before him, that Randwick is especially favoured by Nature, and that a more suitable spot it would have been hard to find for training quarters.

His companion watched him keenly, thinking to himself, "He's a good bred one, I'll bet; a bit different to some of 'em we get out from the old country."