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Jaggers joined his colleagues.
"What did he say?" asked Ikey in his eager yet wary way.
The trainer told him.
"Thinks he knows something," muttered the little Levantine, his brown face thoughtful.
"Kiddin' he do," grunted Chukkers, sucking his charm.
Ikey looked after the retreating fat man.
"He's collared Monkey Brand anyway," he said.
"If Monkey ain't collared him," retorted the jockey.
The moods of the three men were various and characteristic: Jaggers glum and uncertain, Ikey confident, Chukkers grim.
"Who's riding the Putnam horse?" asked Ikey.
"Albert Edward," Jaggers replied.
Chukkers removed his charm from his mouth.
"I ain't afraid o' him," he said. "He's never rode this course afore.
It'll size him up."
"What's the price o' Four-Pound?" asked Ikey.
"Forties," answered Chukkers, biting home.
The little Levantine was surprised, as those Simian eyebrows of his revealed.
"Forties!" he said. "I thought he was a hundred to one."
"So he were a week since," answered Chukkers surlily. "Silver's been plankin' the dollars on."
"Ah, that ain't all," said Jaggers gloomily. "The Ring knows something.
Here, Rushton, go and see what they're layin' Four-Pound."
The head-lad went and returned immediately.
"Thirties offered, sir. No takers."
Jaggers shook his head.
"I don't like it," he said.
All morning, carriages, coaches, silent-moving motorcars, char-a-bancs with rowdy parties, moke-carts, people on bicycles and afoot, streamed out of Liverpool.
By one o'clock people were taking their places in the Grand Stand.
Everywhere America was in the ascendant, good-humoured, a thought aggressive. Phalanxes of the Boys linked arm to arm were sweeping up and down the course, singing with genial turbulence
_Hands off and no hanky-panky._
To an impartial onlooker the att.i.tude of the two great peoples toward each other was an interesting study. Both were wary, ironical, provocative, and perfect tempered. They were as brothers, rivals in the arena, who having known each other from nursery days, cherish no romantic and sentimental regard for each other, are aware of each other's tricks, and watchful for them while still maintaining a certain measure of mutual respect and even affection.
When the American crowd surged up and down the course roaring magnificently,
_The star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave,_
the counter-marching Englishmen met them with the challenging,
_The land of Hope and Glory The Mother of the Free._
With any other peoples rioting and bloodshed would have ensued. Here, apart from an occasional cut-and-dry battle between two enthusiastic individuals in the fringes of the crowd, there was never any need for police interference.
There were two flat races before the National. The horses were gathering for the first when Albert in his s.h.i.+rt sleeves bustled across the Paddock.
A whistle stopped him and he turned.
"'Ullo, Mr. Brand!"
"Where are you off to?"
"I'm goin' to dress now."
"You're early."
"First race is starting."
"How's the horse?"
"Keeps a-lingerin' along."
"Who's with him?"
"Mr. Silver."
The fat man chimed in:
"Where's the lady, then?"
Albert looked blank.
