Boy's Cinema (1939-40)

14 have to assume one. He could always explain to Charles when he saw him again. "Bill Smith," Bill answered. Again Stella hid a smile. She knew perfectlv well that the name wasn't real, hut she didn't say anything about it. She was far too kind to pry into anyone's private business. "Very well, Bill Smith," she said. "Go with Jebson and he'll see what you can do." Jebson growled something, and turned away abruptly. Bill thanked Stella, and followed him. Jebson went to one of the boxes and led out a horse. The animal was a fine one, but he had a wild look in his eye. "Since you're so clever," Jebson said, "saddle and mount him. We'll soon see if you can ride or not." Bill nodded amiably, and went into the box to get the saddle. While he was in- side, he heard Stella call out: "Jebson, not Flying Fifty-Five. There'll be an accident." "That's his business," retorted Jebson sourly. "Jebson, I forbid you to let him ride that horse'' Bill came out of the box just then, and threw the saddle over the animal's back. "It's all right, ma'am," he said. "I can look after myself." He fastened the girth expertly, while the two watched him in silence. Then he mounted. The horse went rigid and snorted. Bill leaned forward and patted him gently on the neck. But the horse wasn't making friends with anybody. He reared on his hind legs in furj'. ti-ying to dislodge Bill. Bill eased him dov/n again, and patted him on the neck once more. Then the horse tried new tactics. He went straight up into the air and came down hard on all fours, hoping to drive every scrap of wind out of Bill's body. But "Bill took the shock by standing up in the stirrups. The horse then bolted. He tore across the nearby paddock, and headed full tilt at a wooden fence. Bill got his head up In nice time, and the horse found to his surprise that he was clearing the fence comfortably. He tried to break into a gallop on the other side, but Billtook a strain on the reins and checked him. Fiercely, angrily, the horse battled for mastery, trying to get his head free so that he could rush off again. But still Bill held him under control, using no more strength than was strictly necessary. In the end the horse gave in. He quietened down, realising that this man on his back was a friend and not an enemy. He wasn't like Jebson, who thought to tame him by giving him the spur and whip. Bill coaxed him into a canter, then turned him and set him at the fence again. The horse responded, rose to the fence, and again cleared it. Bill rode up to Jebson and dismounted. He was laughing. "That's a fine horse, mister." he said. "With a month of the right handling, he'll be a winner." ■ Jebson glared at him. "Are you trying to tell mc how to train horses?" he asked. Bill shook his head. "Certainly not," he replied. "I'm just telUng vou that this horse is a good one. He's a bit of a rogue, but maybe he wants special handling." He turned to Stella. "Now if you'd leave him in my hands for a while, ma'am, I'd make some- thing of him." "It's a deal," said Stella promptly. "Now look here. Miss Stella." Jebson began when she cut him short. "You heard what I said, Jebson," she interrupted "Mr. Smith is to stay here and train Flying Fifty-Five. I have given mv word." BOY'S CINEMA And as Bill unsaddled the animal and led him back into his box, he found that his heart was thumping wildly. This was a girl to work for. She had given her word, and that was tlie kind of talk Bill imderstood. Early the following morning. Bill took Flying Fifty-Five out for exercise. Yet again the horse started out by being difficult, but after a very few minutes he quietened down. Bill took him twice round the paddock, then got someone" with a stop-watch to time him over a gentle gallop. And when Bill knew the result of the timing, he was surer than ever that Fly- ing Fifty-Five was a winner. Bill went on working at the BaiTing- ton stables happily, knowing that the day would come when he would make good, and could go to his father and prove that he had been right. In the meantime, old Mr. Urquhart was liaving an interview with Gregory. Gregory had presented Bill's cheque to the bank, and it had been retui-ned marked "R.D.," which meant that there were no funds to meet it. "You know what that means," said Gregorj'. "If I sue your son, he'll be dis- graced." Old Mr. Urquhart looked worried. He was rather son-y now that he had acted so hastily with Bill, and had been trying to find him again, without success. "You don't have to sue anybody, Gregory," he said. "I'll make the sum good to you. Call at my office in the morning and I'll give you the money." Gregoi-^' shook his head. "I don't think I want the money," he said. "I think I'd rather hold on to the cheque." He smiled thinly. "You see, Urquhart, I think you and I are going to be useful to each other. Hitherto we have been competitors in the stockbrok- ing world, but I see no reason now why we shouldn't be friends." Urquhart looked at him levelly. "What are you driving at?" he asked "Just this. You are a remarkably successful man on the Stock Exchange, Urouhart. Now if we worked in together —exchanged information and so on—I could be successful too. And, of course, if I made plenty of money through your help, I wouldn't bother about a mere hundred and twenty pounds. I wouldn't want to do anything like disgi'acing your son." "Blackmail, eh?" snapped Urquhart. Gregory's face went hard. "If you are stupid enough to look at it that way, yes," he answered. "Black- mail. Of course, you are at liberty to refuse if you want to. In that case I shall have to sue for the money your son owes me." Urquhart walked up and down the room two or three times, his hands clasped behind his back. He knew that if once news of that dud cheque got round, it would ruin Bill's chances of entering the money markets later on. "Very well, Gregory," he said shortly. "I'll look after you. And now get out of here. You've got me where you want me, but that doesn't mean that we have to be friends. I don't like the sight of you, and I'll trouble you to keep out of my way. When I have any news which will be use- ful to you. I'll get hold of you by tele- phone." "That suits me," said Gregory amiably, and swaggered away. Mr. Urquhart felt that he wanted to kick him. DESPERATE STRAITS IT did not take Bill long to find out that all was not well at the Barrington place. Stella was desperately hard up. The house and stables belonged to her, and in the ordinaiT way she would have enough money for everything. But im- fortunatelv her brother Charles was some- thing of a spendthrift. He got through Every Tuesday money so fast, it was impossible to stand the strain and still be solvent. And only a week before Charles had disgraced himself. He had told Stella that he was going to put the family for- tunes right again, and had taken all the spare cash. This he had put on a number of "certs"—horses that simply covildn't help romping home well ahead of the field —and the whole lot of them had lost! So Charles was keeping out of the way for a bit. He felt that he couldn't face Stella for a Uttle while. Bill heard the story one afternoon. Stella had sent for him to talk to him about his wages. "I'm afraid I can't give you any money just yet. Smith," she told him. "Things are just a little bit difficult, and—well, you can see how it is, can't you?" Then, without quite knowing why she did it, she told Bill all about what Charles had done. "You don't have to worry about paying me anything," Bill said when she had finished. "So long as I have somewhere to sleep and enough food to keep me going, that's all I want." He might have added that he also wanted to be near her all the time, but thought he had better not. After all, so far as she knew, he was just a tramp. "You're a good sort. Bill Smith," she said. "But you can't go on for ever with- out money." "I can go on for a long time, though," Bill replied. "I can go on until Flying Fifty-Five wins you a fortune. When he's done that, then you can pay me some- thing." She frowned. "Flying Fifty-Five!" she mused. "Do you think he's likely to win a big race?" "I'm sui'e of it," Bill said promptly. "I wish I was, too." She was still frowning. "Jebson says he's no good. He says he's unreliable." Bill grinned at her cheerfully. "I wonder just why he says that?" he pondered. "You see, Jebson is a good man with houses. He's not very patient, perhaps, but he knows what's likely and what isn't. And he must know that Flying Fifty-Five is fastei than almost anything on four legs." Stella clasped her hands together. She was looking so worried that Bill felt he wanted to do something alwut it. "I wish I could believe you," she said. "I do so wish I could believe you." "You can, you know," said Bill. "Look here, you've seen me on the horse. He's as quiet as a lamb when he's with me. Why not enter him for a race some time within the next week, and see what he can do?" She looked at him thoughtfully for a few seconds, trying to make up her mind. "Perhaps you're right," she said. "But I can't be sure. And I daren't risk any money until I am. After all, Jebson has been in charge of all my horses for some years now, and he ought to know what he's talking about." "I think he does," said Bill. "And he knows that Flying Fifty-Five is pretty fast. He knows, for instance, that the horse is the fastest one that you have." She looked up at him quickly. "He never told me that," she said. "Then he ought to have done. He's timed him with a stop-watch during trial gallops." Her hesitation vanished. She thought that Jebson was probably jealous of Bill —jealous that Bill could ride Flying Fifty- Five. That was why he hadn't said any- thing about the trials. "I'll enter for the Nine-Furlong Handi- cap," she said. "Its run near here in about a fortnight's time." She held out her hand for Bill to take. "I'll back your opinion. Bill Smith. I'll raise eveiy penny I can, and back the horse to win. The odds are sure to be long if we keep quiet about things." Bill grinned exultantly. He knew that he could easily Avin the Nine-Furlong i