The first fence placed nearly half the horses out of the running; the
next threw out two more, though the "King" cleared it in his stride, so
close in the wake of his rival that a speck of white foam flecked the
haunches of the leader.
Adrien nodded approvingly.
"That fellow knows how to ride," he said. "If he keeps the 'King' like
that, the race is ours."
"Oh yes," agreed Vermont, smiling grimly; "he understands him,
evidently. It is to be hoped he keeps him cool till the spurt comes."
"Which will be after the last jump," put in Lord Standon, as he shifted
his field-glasses.
"Exactly," purred Jasper.
Hedge after hedge was cleared, and still "Miracour" was leading; but it
was evident that the high blood of the "King" was burning to get away,
and that his jockey was playing a waiting game.
It was at the stream that the strain began to tell. "Bluebell," the
Irish mare, had struggled on gamely; but at the last she refused to
leap, she stopped short, and her jockey was pitched forward into the
water.
A laugh arose even in the midst of the excitement; but it was
speedily drowned in the cries of "The 'King' wins.
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