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-r.' ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] LUCK AT THE DIAMOND FIELDS, BY DALRYMPLE J. BELGRAYB (BARRISTER- AT-LAW). A QUEER RACE Continued. Joe Warton somehow thought he knew hot!! voices, so he got up and looked over the fence. He found that the men had parted company; one had turned down a road and was out of sight; the other he could see. He was a heavily built man over sis feet high, and Warton recognised him as a man sailed McNeil, who had not been long in Kimberley. He was rather a rough sort of fellow, who had knocked about the world a good deal. He professed to have come out to look at the mines, and report on them for a syndicate of capitalists at home. He was a good deal at the club, though some members thought him rather a doubtful character. The queer thing was, that Joe could not help suspecting that he had recognised in the other voice that of Ferriard. He remembered that Ferriard, though he was friendly enough to most men, had been rather stand- offish to McNeil, and professed some surprise at meeting a man like him at the club, though he had afterwards played cards with him on several occa- sions, as they both seemed to have a keen taste for play. Yet if Warton's suspicions were right, the two men seemed to be on the most confidential foot- ing. After all he was not sure. He had no reason to suspect that Ferriard was not perfectly bona fide and straight, and because he disliked the man and was jealous of him, he ought to be all the more care- ful not to spread injurious reports about him. It was no business of his, and he would not mix himself up in it, he thought, as he undressed and went to bed. When the day of the races came, Joe Warton's chances of winning the Ladies' Purse did not look any more hopeful than they were when the entries were published nor had he managed to hedge any of the money he had put on Lone Star. The public considered that it was a certainty for Induna, and it was generally thought that Mr. Las- celles had been somewhat greedy and unsportsman- like in entering his horse for the minor event, instead of trying to win one of the big ones. How- ever, Mr. Lascelles had joined his forces with some other owners, and had settled to take a share in the stakes they might win, instead of opposing them with Induna, one of the fastest horses ever bred in the colony, and one which several good judges thought might at the weights have a chance of beat- ing the imported horses in the two principal handicaps. Men grumbled and said that the races were being made a cut and dried affair of, but Mr. Lascelles did not care, so long as, he was backed up by his friend Ferriard, about whom he swag- gered and boasted more and more every day. He liked to think that Ferriard was going to ride far him. The race would be reported in the home papers, and there would be a crop of paragraphs about it, and the world in general would learn that Sir Harry Ferriard had sported his, Mr. Lascelles, colours. If Joe Warton's chances of winning the race looked hopeless, his chances of winning what he cared a great deal more about, namely Polly Short's affections, seemed to be almost as small. Their quarrel had grown more serious during the last few days. The Kimberley Race Ball had taken place and Joe had attended it. He had not asked Polly to dance with him, and though he was an awkward dancer enough, generally managing to get her mom or less torn and in trouble, she was none the less in- inclined to be angry with him for taking so little notice of her. At the same time Ferriard's attentions had been very marked, and people were canvassing her chances of becoming Lady Ferriard. A good many of her friends laughed at the idea of his being such a fool as to bring home a bride from the Dia- mond Fields, but they did not know as much as Polly did, as she sat on the grand stand watching the horses entered for the Ladies Purse. The day before Ferriard had asked her to marry him, but his pro- posal had been a somewhat strange one. He had just received a cablegram he said, which made it necessary for him to put off his trip up country and start for England almost at once, and he wanted her to marry him in a week's time and go home with him. Now that she had made up her mind she felt half afraid. It had come so suddenly. Though she fell certain that Ferriard was in love with her, she felt somehow that she was doubtful whether she did not like her old lover best. As she watched old Lone Star being saddled, and saw Joe Warton looking glum and out of spirits, she experienced a feeling of something like romorse. After all old friends were surest, she thought. Lone Star had not many supporters. The old mare had won a good many races on the Diamond Fields and his owner was one of the most popular men there. Little Lazarus might just as well have run Induna in one of the other races, and left the Ladies' Purse for Lone Star, and one or two others, who would have had a fair chance. But there is no sentiment about betting, and the bookmakers' cry of Odds bar one, eight to one bar one, ten to one bar one I" met with very few responses. One or two men took the odds to a few sovereigns on the off chance. People on the Diamond Fields are as a rule great believers in the off chance. Still Joe Warton himself said he did not think he could win, and he advised his friends to leave it alone. Beg your pardon, sir, but will you let me have a look through your race-glasses for a second ?" said a grey-haired, elderly-looking man, whom Joe never remembered having seen before, and who had just bustled into the grand stand, just as the horses were going down to the starting-post. That black is the horse Sir Harrv Ferriard rides, isn't it ? blue and yellow cap ? Thank you, sir, I've seen what I want," he added, with rather a satisfied air, as he gave the glasses back again to Warton. "That's the horse which will win," Joe said, as he took the glasses. So they all seem to think, but maybe it isn't one of Sir Harry's lucky days," the grey-haired man answered, as he bustled away, and Warton saw him in a second or two afterwards speaking rather earnestly to an inspector of police, who was in the ring. Whatever the grey-haired man had to say seemed to surprise the latter a good deal. All right, in the weighina-room after the race. It will be done neatly and Atg no fuss; and a very pretty little bit of business it will be," the grey-haired man said, as he bustled away, and he seemed to leave the inspector with something tc. do, for the latter at once went and spoke to one of the mounted men. Joe Warton was wondering who the grey-haired man was, when he noticed that after he had spoken to the inspector he passed close to McNeil, the man whom he had recognised the night before outside his garden. The latter seemed also, 80 Warton thought, to be a good deal interested in the grey-haired man. In fact, he would have wagered, from the expression of his face, that he recognised the stranger. However, Joe Warton did not bother himself any more about them, for just then there was a cry of They're off I" He was not long in suspense Induna wins I" was shouted out before the horses had got a furlong. Lone Star is coming up-No, it's no good, she can't catch Induna," Warton said, as he put his glasses back in their case, for the race was practically over. Polly Short looked at the race and felt that she was sorry, and that she would give a good deal to see old Lone Star win and that Joe should have the purse she had worked, though she supposed he would not care much for it now. It was about as tame a race as could be seen, but as the winner passed the post, followed by Lone Star, a somewhat startling incident occurred. The grey-haired man who had borrowed Warton's glass, had not gone up to the stand McNeil also had stopped below and stood just behind him. Suddenly he sprang forward, seized the grey-haired man undet his two arms and lifted him clean up into the air, at i he same time shouting in a voice that could be heard all over the course,— "Jim! Slim Jim! ride like- I look here! Old Sharp has come out after you I" Hullo! what's the matter with Sir Harry ? he don't seem to be able to stop the horse. Why he's going ro'md twice-no he ain't 1 Where the deuce is he going-?" said Mr. Lascelles, as he saw his horse shoot out from a canter into a gallop, and dash past the paddock at a racing pace. Well, that's a rum way to finish a race t I suppose it's what they do at the club meeting where he rides at home. But I don't see the sense of it." Mr. Lascelles' astonishment increased considerably as he saw a mounted policeman set off in hot pursuit of the winner. He's gone mad t He can't stop the horse He's got a sunstroke He don't know where the win- ning post is I" were the opinions shouted out by the lookers-on. What price against the peeler ?" called out some one in the ring. To which there was an answering yell of Any odds I" He knows where he's going to finish-it's Stella Land he is making for, and my opinion is he will get there, for none of our men have anything that will catch him," the Kimberley inspector said. and he looked at the grey-haired man with grim smile. Where is that man who interfered with me ? Ah, it's you, is it?" the latter said as he saw McNeil. who was straining his eyes at the race, not on the card which was now taking place; so you knew me, did you? I fancy I know you." Know you, old man I I'd have known yer made into soup. Glad you remember me, for you've nc old accounts against me," the big man answered cheerily enough. In the mean time George Marshall, the rider oi Lone Star, had gone to the weighing-room. I'll weigh in at once, I think; and I fancy old Lone Star has won this race after all, for Six Harry Ferriard won't pass the scales unless he loses the race he is riding now, and it's long odds on him for that," he said to the stewards who were super- intending there. The rider of Induna, Sir Harry Ferriard, aliai Slim Jim, alias Captain Barton, alias et ceteras, never did come back to weigh in. He never came back t3 Kimberley at all. Mr. Lascelles never saw his aristocratic acquaint- ance or his horse Induna again. The former turned out to be a well-know criminal, who was wanted by the London police for a heavy Bill forgery case. Inspector Sharp of Scotland Yard had tracked him out to the Diamond Fields, and just arrived by the coach in time to get up to the race-course and see him go down to the start on Induna, The inspector does not often sp about that trip to South Africa, which he hoped would have been such a successful episode in his professional career. He has a mean opinion of a country where a fast horse enables a fugitive to get away from the police. Joe Warton won the bets he was in such a hurry to make, and he spent the money in furnishing a house for Pretty Polly Short, who became Mrs. Warton after all. She told him that before the sen- sational end of that queer race she had determined to give up the idea of becoming Lady Ferriard, ot the chance of making it up with him again, and he believed her.

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