The Second String

Bricky Smiles had met many men in his time, and experience taught him to pick and choose with discernment.

"That is Joel Kenley's house," he said, as they turned the corner at the foot of the hill, and faced the wide clean road with neatly trimmed hedges and pretty picturesque houses.

Joel Kenley's training stables were almost perfect in their appointment, and since he had taken over command, he had been careful to keep everything in order. Jack had seen many training establishments in the old country, far more extensive than this, but he thought he had never come across one that looked more business-like, or compact.

"I'll not go in with you," said Bricky, smiling. "Joel's a cut above me now, although there was a time when he would have been very glad for me to do him a turn."

"And has he forgotten that time?" asked Jack, in some surprise.

"No, I can't say he has; but as you are a visitor, he'll no doubt prefer to see you alone. I daresay we shall meet again."

"Sure to," replied Jack, "and if I can be of any service to you, I shall be only too pleased. I will not forget to tell Mr. Tuxford I met you."

They parted, and Jack walked up the path to the trainer's house. The front door was open and a couple of fox terriers barked a welcome, as well as a warning, for they quickly decided the visitor was a friend and not an enemy.

Jack thought it all looked very home-like, and the barking of the terriers recalled to mind his visits to The Downs, and the joyous capers of Winifred's dogs as they sprang up at him and then careered wildly round the lawn.

The trainer was sitting in the front room and came to the door before he had time to knock.

Jack recognised him by his resemblance to his brother, and said with a smile —

"You are Mr. Kenley, I think, I have not much hesitation in saying."

Joel Kenley held out his hand, and said —

"And if I am not mistaken you are Mr. Redland. I had a long letter from my brother, Caleb, about you some months ago; where have you been all this time? I have been expecting to see you, and wondered what had become of you; however, come inside and make yourself quite at home – that is, if you are Mr. Redland," he added, laughing.

"I am Jack Redland, and it is quite evident we meet as friends."

It was a pleasure to Jack to talk about the old places at home, and Joel asked many questions about his brother. "We have been parted a good many years," he said, "and our letters have been few and far between; a trainer's life does not leave him much leisure for correspondence. I recollect Lewes well, and also The Downs. Sir Lester Dyke was a fine English gentleman."

"He is one of my best friends," replied Jack, "probably the best, and your brother has been very successful in training his horses. He does not keep many, but what he has are usually of a good class, and pay their way."

"Which is more than can be said for the majority of racehorses," laughed Joel. "Caleb was always a cute fellow, even as a youngster, and got the better of me on many occasions."

"I rode a winner for Sir Lester just before I sailed for Fremantle," said Jack; "Topsy Turvy in the Southdown Welter; it was a lucky race for me in every way."

"My brother mentions it in his letter, in fact told me all about it, and also that you were one of the best amateur riders in England. We must try and get you a mount or two here, I suppose you have no objections?"

"On the contrary, I shall be only too pleased to be in the saddle again. I have been pearl fishing in Western Australia; it was all right for a time, very interesting as an experiment, but I should not care to stick at it long," said Jack.

Joel Kenley laughed as he replied —

"There's a vast difference between pearl fishing and horse riding, I am afraid you will require some practice. Come out into Randwick track in the early morning, and I will give you a mount on something that will take you along at a fair pace."

This suited Jack immensely, and he broached the subject of Lucky Boy, and of Barry Tuxford's desire for Joel Kenley to take him into his stable if he had room and no objections.

For a moment the trainer hesitated, then he said —

"I have several patrons, but I do not think any of them will mind my taking the horse. Owners have become ticklish of late, and do not care for strangers bringing an odd horse or two into their camp; however, I can make it all right with them, and Mr. Tuxford may send Lucky Boy here as soon as he likes. What sort of a horse is he?"

"I have ridden him in two or three gallops, and consider him a very fair horse indeed. He's a stayer and has plenty of pace, a good bay, four years old, full of bone and muscle; he's a trifle on the big side now, anyway I think you will like him. He may not be equal to taking the measure of your cracks, although Barry is sanguine he will."

Joel Kenley smiled as he said, —

"I have never seen a horse for that part of the Colonies that was capable of holding his own with our lot. If there is anything to work on in Lucky Boy, I'll get it out of him, you may rest assured of that. If I may venture on a word of advice, I think you ought to buy another horse to lead him in his work and act as a sort of second string in case Lucky Boy cannot run at any time."

"A very good idea," replied Jack. "I should like to buy a second string, as you aptly call it, if you will take charge of him – but that would be bringing another stranger into the stable," he added, laughing.

"Never mind that," replied the trainer. "When I have found out the sort of horse Lucky Boy is, I shall be better able to advise you what kind of a second string you require. I can arrange for trials with some of the other horses later on, but, in the first place, it will be better to have a companion for him in his work. I should not advise you to fly at too high game at first, take a feeler and see what we can safely do."

Jack recognised this advice as sound and agreed with it; he thought how Joel Kenley resembled his brother in his ways and mode of going to work – cautious, yet having plenty of pluck at the right time. After a round of the stables, where he saw some of the cracks of the Colony, he left again for Sydney, promising to be on the track next morning with Barry Tuxford.

Joel Kenley was very pleased with his visitor, and glad to make his acquaintance.

"There's grit in him," he thought. "He looks as though he could ride a determined finish, and when I see how he shapes at exercise, I'll take good care he has a mount on one that will do him credit. Barry Tuxford's a rum customer, and I have heard some funny tales about him; but he must be a straight goer, or young Redland would not take him on."

"Well, what luck?" asked Barry as Jack entered their room in the hotel.

"Good luck; could not be better. Joel Kenley is one of the right sort, he says he will take Lucky Boy into his stable and you can send him along as soon as you like."

"That's good," said Barry, well satisfied, "we shall know the horse is in safe hands."

Jack then explained what the trainer had suggested about a second string to lead Lucky Boy in his work, and also to run in races if necessary.

"A second string!" exclaimed Barry. "It sounds a bit like pearls, a string of 'em. I wonder if you will get hold of the black pearl for that charming young lady you think so much about. I have had a good many strings of pearls through my hands."

"I hope I shall get it," said Jack. "I have set my heart on having that black pearl, it will bring us luck, I feel sure."

"If anyone can recover it, it will be Silas. He's an old thief, but he'll be straight with me, and he knows how to handle such men as Amos Hooker; he will deal with him in a way of his own that will probably surprise us."

It would have surprised them had they known what had taken place at Shark's Bay, and the fate of Amos Hooker, also that the black pearl was safe in the hands of Silas Filey.

Almost at the moment they were conversing about it, Silas Filey had the black pearl in his hands, and his eyes were fixed upon it with a greedy fascination that was unmistakable. The pearl had been delivered into his keeping and it was not for sale. He had promised to get it for Jack Redland and Barry Tuxford, and had done so.

The spirit of the pearl buyer, the dealer, the judge of such precious treasures, was roused on him as he looked at it. He knew it to be a pearl of almost fabulous value, he had never seen one so perfectly flawless, and he desired to possess it with an intensity of feeling known only to the men who deal in such things.

He would not let it go without a struggle; he would offer a big sum for it, not as much as it was worth, but sufficient to tempt a man in Jack Redland's position. Barry Tuxford would probably ask him to place a value upon it for Jack Redland to pay; if so, it should be reasonable, allowing for him a substantial margin so that he could give a considerable advance upon it in case Jack was induced to sell it.

Silas Filey misjudged his man, he little knew Jack Redland's determined character, or his sterling honesty, which would forbid him, in any case, to profit at the expense of others.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIRST

BRICKY FINDS A JOB

Lucky Boy went into Joel Kenley's stables at Randwick, and no one raised any objection.

Strange to say, it was Bricky Smiles who took the horse to Randwick. Jack Redland found him hanging about the yards in Pitt Street, where the horse was boxed, and in the course of conversation mentioned that Lucky Boy was going into Kenley's stable.

"Is he sending for him?" asked Bricky with an eye to a job.

"No; we are to deliver him there," replied Jack.

"Will you let me take him? I will be very careful," said Bricky, "and I know how to handle horses better than the lads about here."

"Certainly," replied Jack, without any hesitation. He had taken a fancy to Bricky, and was glad to do him a turn, no matter how small. "You must be on your guard, for he's a bit skittish, and a trifle fresh and above himself just now."

"Leave it to me; I'll see he comes to no harm."

"We ought to have someone to look after him at Kenley's. I never thought of it at the time, and it will be hardly fair to ask him to lend us one of his lads. How would you like to do it? I don't suppose Mr. Kenley would have any objection."

Bricky's eyes sparkled. Here was a chance he had not expected, and he jumped at it. He thought he could induce Joel Kenley to let him remain if it was the desire of Lucky Boy's owner he should do so.

"I shall be very glad of the job," said Bricky. "It is a long time since I had such an offer, but I am used to the work, and will do my best for you."

"I am sure you will," replied Jack, "and I will write a letter to Kenley and name the matter to him."

This he did, and handed it to Bricky when he took charge of Lucky Boy.

The old jockey led the horse very carefully, and admired him when he saw how well he walked. As they passed through Randwick numerous stable boys looked at him, and recognising a strange horse, called out to Bricky and asked his name.

Bricky was not a favourite with the younger generation, and they were apt to tease him and make fun at his expense, forgetting that he knew a good deal more than they were ever likely to learn. He answered them sharply, telling them to mind their own business and find out.

This nettled them, and one lad more venturesome than the others shouted —

"So you've found somebody to trust you at last, Brick; I hope they'll not be sorry for it."

"Shut up, you young scoundrel," shouted Bricky. "If I could leave the horse I'd give you a hiding."

There was a general laugh of derision at this, which did not improve Bricky's temper, and another boy called out —

"I'll hold the horse while you give it him."

Bricky was moving on, out of the way of his tormentors, when someone threw a stone and frightened Lucky Boy. The horse plunged, and almost dragged the reins out of his hand. He tried to pacify him, but had some difficulty in doing so. It so happened that Joel Kenley was riding along at the time, and seeing what occurred he dismounted, handed his horse to a bystander, and before the lad who had thrown the stone was aware of it, he was in the trainer's grip.

The boy wriggled and endeavoured to get away, but it was not until he had received a sound thrashing that he was allowed to go. The trainer coolly remounted and rode after Bricky, leaving the small group of boys cowed and sullen, and vowing vengeance upon both of them.

"Whose horse is that?" he asked as he came up with him.

"Mr. Tuxford's, and I am taking him to your stables."

"That's curious; it was lucky I came up when I did, or he might have got away from you. So that's Lucky Boy, is it? He does not look a bad sort; a better quality than I expected."

The trainer watched the horse carefully as they went down the hill, and the more he saw of his movements the better he liked him.

When they arrived at the stables Bricky handed Jack's note to the trainer, and scrutinised his face as he read it.

"He wants you to stay and look after the horse," said Joel. "We have no room, but I daresay you can sleep out."

"I'll manage that if you'll allow me to attend to him," said Bricky eagerly.

"It is some time since you undertook work of this kind?"

"But you know I can look after a horse as well if not better than some of the younger ones."

"Yes, I think you can, and I would far sooner have you in my stable than a stranger. Bring him round to this box."

Lucky Boy was installed in comfortable quarters, and the head lad was informed that Bricky Smiles would look after him.

"And see that the lads do not chaff him," said the trainer. "If they do, report to me, and I will soon settle with them."

"Very good, sir," replied the head lad, who respected his master, and kept a firm hold over the boys.

Bricky at once set to work and strapped Lucky Boy well, and when he had finished his task, stood looking at him with much satisfaction.

Fred Manns, the head lad, smiled as he saw him, and said —

"You have not forgotten how to work, Bricky, and I daresay you have not forgotten how to ride. I know when I was a youngster you were considered the equal of any of our jockeys. You've had bad luck, old fellow; this may bring about a change if the horse turns out a good one. Where does he come from, and who owns him?"

It was evident Joel Kenley was not communicative, or there would have been no occasion to put these questions. As it was Fred Manns who asked them, Bricky was quite willing to supply the information, which he did.

"Comes from Western Australia!" said Fred in surprise. "That's a deuce of a way to bring a horse. I should have thought it would have paid better to race him there, much easier to win than it will be here."

"I do not think it is a matter of money with either Barry Tuxford or Mr. Redland. They brought the horse over because they are true sportsmen and want to see what he can do against some of our lot. I hope they will be rewarded for their pluck with a good win."

"So do I," replied Fred. "They are the sort of men we want about us; there's too much of the money-making about most of them, and when they get a haul it's precious little of it comes our way."

"Then you find your jobs not all pleasure and profit?" said Bricky smiling.

"It's anything but that. The boss is all right, a real good sort, but some of the owners are desperate skinflints."

"You'll find a difference with the owner of Lucky Boy if he wins a race," said Bricky. "I'm open to bet he gives tips all round if he has a win, and liberal ones too."

"Do you know him?"

"Yes, I rode a race or two for him years ago, but I have not seen him since he went away. Mr. Redland I only met quite accidentally as he was coming to see the boss, but I am sure he is a genuine good fellow. It was he gave me the chance to look after Lucky Boy."

The new arrival at Kenley's stables went out with the team to exercise at Randwick next morning, and Jack Redland and Barry Tuxford were on the course. After mutual greetings, the trainer suggested Jack should mount Lucky Boy and give him a canter, and then a fast mile spin with a couple of others.

Nothing loath, Jack was soon ready, and Joel Kenley's practised eyes quickly saw he had a good seat. The appearance of a strange rider, more especially an amateur, caused some comment amongst the lookers on, and there were many inquiries to learn who he was.

Lucky Boy moved somewhat stiffly, as this was his first exercise canter after the voyage, but it quickly wore off, and by the time the trainer gave instructions for the gallop the horse was eager to be off. The going was good, and Jack admired all the surroundings – the hills, the houses at Randwick, and the distant view of famous Botany Bay.

The horses sent out to accompany Lucky Boy were not of a very high class, but both had won handicaps at Moorefield, Canterbury, and elsewhere. Jack soon found he would not have much difficulty in beating them, and this he did comfortably and with judgment.

As they pulled up, Joel Kenley said to Barry Tuxford —

"I think you have a very fair horse, and I am sure your friend is a good rider. I shall have no hesitation in putting him up when I have an opportunity."

This pleased Barry, who said —

"I hope to win a good race with Lucky Boy, and I know Jack will be delighted to have a winning mount."

The boys who had ridden with Jack were not long in telling their stable companions that the new chum was "no slouch," and that he could ride "above a bit." As to Lucky Boy, they were not much impressed with his merits, as the horses they had ridden against him were not first class.

"The next thing we have to do is to purchase the second string," said Jack smiling.

"And I think I have hit upon the very horse for you if he can be bought," replied the trainer. "You see that dark brown over there cantering alongside Bowery?"

They looked in the direction pointed out, and saw the horses he alluded to.

"That's Black Boy. He's very useful; five years old, thoroughly reliable, no vice, and an excellent schoolmaster. If they'll sell him he is just the horse for you. He can win a welter race and you can ride him yourself."

They watched the horse as he went past, and Jack was favourably impressed. There was a "cut and come again" look about him that argued well for his courage.

"What is he worth?" he asked.

"They are sure to ask a stiff price if they know we want him. He's not in very good hands, and I have had my doubts about his running on more than one occasion lately. I am under the impression they have been bottling him up, and if I am correct, you might get a better race out of him than many people would anticipate. No blame would attach to us; the change of stables would account for the reversal of form; but, of course, if it is as I surmise, it will put his price up. Black Boy is honestly worth about three hundred; they will probably ask five, and you may get him for something over four hundred."

"Will you try and buy him?" asked Jack.

"I had better keep out of it. If they think I want the horse they will not sell. I am not in their good books, and have no desire to be; they are not my class, but that has nothing whatever to do with the merits of the horse."

"No, of course not," answered Jack, "but can you get anyone to approach them for us?"

"Why not let me try?" said Barry, laughing. "I generally succeed in my undertakings, and I fancy I can manage it. They'll probably take me for a greenhorn."

The trainer laughed as he replied —

"They will not do that."

"There's very little of the greenhorn look about you," said Jack, "but try if you wish, although I do not know how you will work it."

"Leave that to me," replied Barry. "I can always find out ways and means of becoming acquainted with anyone I wish to know."

It was decided that negotiations for the purchase of Black Boy should be left in Barry's hands, and he was not long in making a move in the desired direction.

The next day he told Jack he knew Abe Moss, the owner of the horse, that he was introduced to him in Tattersall's, and that in the course of a day or two he would broach the question as to whether Black Boy was for sale.

"I have given a hint that I wish to buy one or two horses, and I saw Moss took it; he's a keen hand, and thinks he'll make a bit out of me. We shall see," added Barry, with a wink.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SECOND

BLACK BOY'S OWNER

Whatever Abe Moss's opinion of Barry Tuxford might be, that astute gentleman had his own way, and purchased Black Boy for four hundred and fifty pounds. Jack Redland was satisfied, so was Joel Kenley, who remarked that it was quite evident Barry Tuxford was fully equal to half a dozen men like Abe Moss.

"I'm not so sure of that," said Barry. "He's sharp enough, and I fancy he thinks he has got a good price for the horse. He asked me if I had any objections to letting him know when the horse was going out to win, and I said none at all, for the first time he started he would do his best."

"And what did Moss say?" asked the trainer.

"He smiled and looked cunning, as much as to say —

"'You need not tell that fairy tale to me, you are not the man to run a horse out when the money is not on.'"

"I think that is probably correct," laughed Joel; then seeing Barry's countenance change, he added quickly —

"I mean what Moss thought, not that his opinion was correct."

Black Boy was handed over to Barry Tuxford, and consigned to the care of Bricky Smiles, at Kenley's stables. Bricky commenced to feel important again, he had two horses to look after, and this was a move in the right direction.

Joel Kenley was amused at him, and satisfied with his work in every way, in fact he acknowledged to Jack that a better man could not have been found for the job.

"It has given him a new lease of life," said the trainer, "and he'll be quite a different man in a few weeks."

Joel Kenley was not long in ascertaining whether his surmise as to Black Boy having been "bottled up" was correct. He tried him well, and was surprised at the result. He kept his knowledge to himself until he had given the horse a "dust up" with Lucky Boy. Again the result was a surprise, for the Western horse won rather easily at level weights.

Joel was a trifle puzzled. He had discovered that Black Boy would probably be weighted at a stone below his proper form in the next big handicap, and he was quite sure Lucky Boy would be leniently treated, as handicappers usually, and sometimes foolishly, regarded these "outsiders" with a contempt that was not deserved.

The trainer chuckled quietly to himself as he contemplated the bringing off of one or two good coups. He dearly loved the excitement attending such proceedings, and although he would have scorned to order a horse to be "pulled," he had no objections to benefit by the hoodwinking of a handicapper.

Somehow Joel regarded handicappers as his natural enemies, and had frequently fallen foul of them, and asked for an explanation of the weights placed upon his horses. On several instances it was acknowledged that he had good grounds for his grievance, and this did not improve the temper of the handicappers.

Although his horses ran in and out, as most horses will, there was no suspicion against him, and his reputation for honesty stood high. It was different with Abe Moss, who was regarded as a very smart customer indeed, and when it became known that a new patron of Joel's stable had purchased Black Boy there was a general winking of eyes, and nodding of heads, amongst the "knowing ones."

The opinion of these would-be clever men was that Abe Moss would not have parted with Black Boy had the horse been any good. They were a little disappointed, because they had been carefully watching Black Boy's running, and had come to the conclusion some of his performances were "very hot" indeed, and they meant to reap the benefit of their observations when "the money was on." Their time had been wasted, their opinions must have been utterly wrong, for had Abe Moss been "keeping" Black Boy for a particular race he would not have sold him.

In this they were wrong. Abe Moss was by no means inclined to play shady games for the benefit of others. He had of late received several hints that if Black Boy suddenly showed greatly improved form he might be called upon to have an unpleasant interview with the stewards of the Jockey Club. Abe had a pious horror of stewards, he considered them superfluities, and said they were appointed to prevent honest men earning a decent living. As racing meant income to Abe Moss, he had no desire to be "warned off," and this was probably what would happen if Black Boy suddenly developed into a good handicap horse.