"Mr. Woodridge is paying my expenses. He kind o' took a likin' to me when he was here; I rowed him to his yacht several times. He's one of the right sort, he is," said Brack. "You're in luck's way," said the porter he had addressed as Tommy. "It's men like me deserve to have luck--I'm a hard worker." "We're all hard workers," said Tom. "Go on! Call trundling barrers, and handlin' bags hard work? Rowin's hard work. You try it, and you'll find the difference," said Brack. Tom laughed as he said: "You're a good sort, Brack, and I wish you success. This is your train." Rose came up. "I've got the tickets. Is this the London train, porter?" "Yes, right through to Paddington," said Tom, staring as he saw Rose and Brack get in together. "Who is he, Brack, your swell friend?" he asked. "Him? Oh, he's a cousin from Yorkshire," grinned Brack; and Rose sank down on the seat overwhelmed. CHAPTER XXII DONCASTER Brack and Rose arrived at Doncaster on the eve of the St. Leger, staying at a quiet hotel on the outskirts of the town. The railway journey from Torquay had been a source of anxiety to Rose. Brack made audible observations about the occupants of the carriage, which were resented, and Rose exercised diplomacy to keep the peace. He was horrified to see Brack pull a black bottle out of his bag. "Beer," said Brack; "will you have some?" Rose declined in disgust; Brack pulled at it long and lustily, emptied it before reaching Exeter, got out there, went into the refreshment room, had it refilled, and nearly missed his train; Rose pulled, a porter pushed behind, and he stumbled in just in time; the bottle dropped on the floor, rolled under the seat, and Brack created a diversion among the passengers by diving for it. He generously passed it round, but no one partook of his hospitality. It was a relief to Rose when he went to sleep, but he snored so loud he thought it advisable to wake him. Brack resented this, and said he was entitled to snore if he wished. It was with evident relief that Rose saw him go to bed. When Brack disappeared he related his misfortunes to his host, who sympathized with him to his face and laughed behind his back: he considered Brack the better man of the two. At breakfast Rose explained what Doncaster was like in Leger week, until Brack, with his mouth crammed with ham, and half a poached egg, spurted out, "You're wastin' yer breath. I've been to see t'Leger many a time." "Have you? I thought this was your first visit." "And me a Yorkshireman--go on!" said Brack. They drove to the course in the landlord's trap, arriving in good time. "I suppose you have not been in the paddock before?" said Rose patronizingly. "No; I've been over yonder most times," and he waved toward the crowd on the moor. "Follow me and I will conduct you." Brack laughed. "You're a rum cove, you are. What do you do when you're at home?" "I am Mr. Woodridge's general manager," said Rose loftily.