They rose up in wrath like a vast, avenging cloud, and went raving over the barrier on to the course in tumultuous black flood. The ruck of beaten horses, bobbing home one by one, crashed into them. The mob, without regard for its shattered atoms, moved on like one. A roaring sea of humanity swung on its blind way. Above the dark waters jockeys in silken jackets and on sweating thoroughbreds drifted to and fro like helpless butterflies. While in contrast to these many-coloured creatures of faerie, the great-coated and helmeted police in blue, on horses, hairy and solid as themselves, butted their way through the clamorous deeps, as they made for the rock round which the angry waves were breaking. They had their work cut out, and used their bludgeons with a will. Round the man upon the beaten favourite the mob swirled and screamed like a hyena-pack at the kill. Chukkers was a brute; but to do him justice he was not a coward. The high-cheeked Mongolian, yellow with anger and chagrin, was using his whip without mercy. The hub-bub was as of a battle the most horrible, for there were women in it, screaming for blood. "Lynch him!" came the roar. "Pull him off!" "Trample him!" "Stick him with this!" Monkey Brand, who had suddenly come to life, had hold of the winner, sweating, amiable, entirely unmoved by the pandemonium around, and was leading him away into the Paddock through the outskirts of the howling mob. The crowd was too maddened to pay attention to the little man and his great charge. Those who were not bent on murdering Chukkers were absorbed in watching those who were. Old Mat, trotting at Silver's side, was chuckling and cooing to himself like a complacent baby, as the pair descended the Grand Stand and made for the Paddock. "Yes," he was saying, "my bankers'll be please--very please, they will. And good cause why. That's a hundud thousand quid, Mr. Silver, in my pocket--all a-jinglin' and a-tinglin'. 'Ark to em!--like 'erald angels on the go." He paused, touched the other's arm, and panted huskily: "Funny thing! A minute since it was in the h'air--ewaporated, as the sayin' is. Now it's here--froze tight." He slapped his pocket. "Makes the 'ead to think and the 'eart to rejoice, as the Psalmist said on much a similar occasion. Only we'd best not tell Mar. Wonderful woman, Mar, Mr. Silver, and grows all the while more wonderfulerer. Only where it is is--there it is." He lifted his rogue-eye to the young man's face and cried in an ecstasy of glee. "Oh, how glorioushly does the wicked flourish--if only so be they'll keep their eyeballs skinned!" At the gate the White Hat stopped him. "So you've got up on 'em again, Mr. Woodburn," he said. "Congratulations, Mr. Silver." On the course the pair ran into Monkey Brand, leading the winner home. "Here, sir!" he cried, seeming excited for the first time in his life. "All O.K. Bit giddified like. That's all. Take the horse. The Three J's mean business, I tell ye. I must be moving."