"We might do that, but I am afraid he would not pay his expenses. He'd come in all right as a second string if I bought something good; do to bring 'em along, and make the pace sound for the other fellow." "I should say you would have some difficulty in finding a better horse to lead another at exercise, or as you suggest, to ensure a good pace throughout a long race. I have often seen the second string beat the first when he has been run merely as an assistant," said Jack. "Will you sell half your shares in the Great Tom mine?" asked Barry. "Yes, if you advise me to do so, and the money will come in handy for racing." "If you are going to bet with it, keep it locked up where it is, it will be safer there." "Then you are no believer in backing horses?" "Not to win much money. Of course, I like to have a flutter for the fun of the thing, most sportsmen do," said Barry. "When do you intend leaving here?" "As soon as we have got the fleet away again. I must see Rank, and the two skippers, and come to terms with them." When Barry went to Fremantle, to arrange for the return of the schooners to the bay, Jack wrote a reply to Winifred's letter. It was a long epistle, and in it he gave her an account of his adventures with the pearling schooners. "It was a rough life, but I did not dislike it, and the finding of pearls is very exciting. I did not intend to tell you of this incident, but I cannot keep it to myself, and I know you have too much good sense to be disappointed if it does not turn out as I wish. One day I found a beautiful black egg shaped pearl in a large shell. It was perfect--not a flaw in it, and I was bewildered at its beauty, for they are very rare. I thought how nice it would be to send it to you as a token you were not forgotten. Forgotten! Why Winnie, I am always thinking of you and of the last time I saw you on the terrace, with your arms outstretched, pleading to me to come back, or I fancied so. 'Like his conceit,' I hear you say. "There is an old pearl dealer here; a regular character, looks like a cross between a Jew pawn-broker and a Christian cabdriver. He's very rich, so my friend, Barry Tuxford, says. (Barry's a splendid fellow--a regular colonial. I am sure you would like him.) His name is Silas Filey--how do you fancy it--and he bought up all our pearls before he left the schooner. He says he'll try and get the black pearl back, because he knows the man we think persuaded the black fellow to steal it. If it is recovered Barry has promised I shall have it at a fair price, and I mean to send it you. Its story and adventures will interest you, and when you look at it, if ever you have the luck, it will remind you of 'the failure' far away in Australia.