"I'm glad I've held 'em both, the hands that strangled that cursed hound. Come along with me. I'll see yer safe, never fear. There's not a man jack of 'em in Torquay or Princetown, or anywhere, would ever suspect old Brack of harboring a--gentleman." Without a word the man went with him. As he walked at the honest Brack's side he thought: "My prayer has been answered." CHAPTER V PICTON'S WINNING MOUNTS It was Easter Monday, and a holiday crowd gathered on the slopes of Petitor racecourse at St. Mary Church. More than usual interest was shown in the meeting owing to the presence of Picton Woodridge, whose fame as a gentleman rider was well-known. Dick Langford was popular and the success of the pink jacket eagerly anticipated. Petitor is not an ideal course; it is on the slope of a hill, and a queer country to get over, but some interesting sport is seen and the local people take a pride in it; as a golf links it is admirable. Picton had not seen the course before, at least only from the road, and as he looked at it he smiled. "I may lose my way," he said to Rita; "go the wrong course." "You will find it easy enough, and you are not likely to make mistakes. Look," and she pointed out the track to him, and the various obstacles. There were bookmakers there--where are they not when races are on, no matter how small the fields, or the crowd? Picton wore the pink jacket, ready to ride Pitcher in the Maiden Hurdle Race, the opening event. There were only three runners, and yet the books accepted six to four on Dick's horse; there was a strong run on Frisco; and Fraud was nibbled at. "Come along," said Dick; "time to mount." "Good luck!" said Rita with a smile. "You'll find Pitcher easy to ride. I've been on him several times." "He'll find me rather a different burden," said Picton. The three runners came out, and Picton received a hearty welcome, which he acknowledged. "Sits his horse well," said one. "A good rider, anybody can see that." "Here, I'll take seven to four and it's picking up money!" shouted a bookmaker; and so thought the backers as they hurried up with their money, and Pitcher quickly became a two to one on chance. The distance was two miles. Picton indulged Frisco with the lead until half a mile from home, when he sent Pitcher forward, had a slight tussle with Frisco, then forged ahead and landed the odds by ten lengths amidst great cheering. "Win number one," said Dick triumphantly; "when the meeting is over they'll bar you from riding here again." Rita was delighted, her face all smiles; she was proud of the good-looking man who had carried her brother's colors to victory. Picton, as he walked about with Rita, Dick, Captain Ben and a host of friends, was the cynosure of all eyes; but he was accustomed to being stared at. "Now comes the tug-of-war," said Dick. "There's The Rascal. See how he's lashing out, scattering the crowd. I believe he's in a nasty temper, confound him."