OUR SATURDAY STORY.

Auckland Star, Volume XLIV, Issue 183, 2 August 1913, Page 16

OUR SATURDAY STORY.

A WINNING HAZARD.

(By HAROLD WESTON.) '

At an age when yonng men are nsually sowing wild oats in an all too productive ground, Carter came into his Inheritance. And on the morning that the family solicitor found him, lying iv a ditch with his collarbone broken, and his uncle's hunter limping np the lane towards her paddock, he was told that the estate, which ended only as far as the eye could reach ln any given direction, was now his own by right of inheritance. The collarbone was soon re-set under the country medico's care, and in a few days Carter was able to mount the hunter —now hie own, and to survey the land with all the arrogance of a country squire. It was a pity, perhaps, that the doctor, though able to reset bones, was unable to reset his mind; for with a wild recklessness that was unaccountable, he made a pace which was too rapid even for himself to continue —«o at the age of thirty-four we find him bereft of his estates, and possessed only of a small cottage with a few acres of pasture land attached, on the outskirts of the village. The Inheritance which he had so speedily dissipated was now a bone of contention for a syndicate of mottlenosed gentlemen who rejoiced ln Hebraic names and large fortunes, and who were engaged in pulling down the country house that had once been Carter's home and "browbeating" the architect, whom- they had retained to draw plans for a model village, which should be at once a regular income to the promoters and an eyesore to the rest of mankind. Carter watched their movements with interest. He did not really mind the desecration, 'but he feared that the syndicate might take It into its head to cnt down the timber in the woods and thereby disturb the coverts —and Carter had a tender affection for the coverts; they supplied him with his meals. He -was thinking over these things as be passed along the road In which stood Us cottage; and his eyes were fixed upon the fields beyond, -when a movement in the hedge attracted, his attention, and he looked up. The large eyes of the animal that had thrown him on the day he came. into Ms Inheritance met his, and the mare whinnied and pushed her muzzle out towards him. She was a fine-looking animal, with her beautifully modelled head and neck, but time had made severe ravages upon her, as it had upon her master; and both as they stood facing each other showed that failure was writ large on their brows. Golden Chance was past her prime, and the pos-dbUities inherent within ber seemed as dead as those In her master. When Carter's uncle had bought her, he had said to his nephew, "My lad, here is success—she has the genuine hall-mark." But GoWen Cha*-ce never was a success; She seemed always to jnst miss being what her master had said of her; so before the season was out she had been branded a failure. Carter rode her several times, but always with the same result—and people began to shake their heads and say that the squire's knowledge of horse-flesh was at fanlt. And yet Carter clung to her. It may have been that he-bad a sentimental attachment to her on account of having ridden her the day he came Into his property; or it may have been that he hoped even now to retrieve her. failures and prove his -uncle's knowledge of a horse to be infallible; but, any way, "Carter and his mare" became a synonym for friendship in every tap-room in the neighbouring country. He leant forward and caressed the creature's neck, and the mare shock her mane and gazed down upon the one human being in the whole of creation who really understood her—it is so easy for one failure to understand another. Day after day, as the companions of hisprosperity gradually left him, he became more and more wrapped up in the artimal; and he would stand at times lost In thought, gazing at the hollow flanks of his favourite, j How Carter lived no one could tell; for, bereft of all the money he had inherited, he was unable to gain a livelihood, as his stock-in-trade consisted only of a gentle-; man's instincts and an inability to nsei them. But there were not lacking shrewd old men who hazarded gnesses and whispered them into the ear of "mine host," as he banged their pots upon the table before them. "They coverts, landlord, he! he.'** they would pipe in senile mirth, as they shook their old heads and gazed at the foaming brew. "They coverts could tell a tale' or two." And possibly they could, for Carter spent most of the night amongst them; his shadow thrown into the ditches that held bis snares, and on to the banks that hid his traps. Over the whole length of the domain that had once been his. Carter's short, sturdy figure might have been seen (by anyone cnte enough to track hlni) poaching on the land that but a few years before he- had owned. Perhaps the oue thing that went to his heart was the fact that circumstances and the keen ears of the keepers forbade him the luxury of shooting where he was obliged to snare. That was the only mark of the sportsman left to him; and to Carter, with his somewhat dry sense of humour, even this had its comic side. There had been nights when he had come perilously near detection, for Harker, the head keeper, was a man who knew a great deal more about tracking poachers than the Yiddish syndicate could teach him. In spite of this, Carter had managed to evade him; but Harker knew his man, and waited. He waited three years, and then he caught him. Carter was busy with a trap on the bank, and did not see the keeper's shadow beside him. "Got 'im safe, Mr Carter 7" Carter turned and met the man's eyes, and for a second stood stock still, as though he were rooted to the ground, then he emitted a low laugh. "You've-clever, Harker," he said at last-, "deuced clever. Well?" "You'll 'aye- to come with mc, sir.** "Oh, you can drop the 'sir,' my man." Then he laughed, and emptied his pockets. "That'd have been a good bag in the old days, Harker, wouldn't it?" The keeper codded grimly. "Poverty sharpens one's wits, Harker. Well, come along. Any of the synagogue in residence?" "Case for the magistrates; and tbey are down on poachers," replied the keeper. Carter nodded. ""I understand—own land themselves." For some time they walked along: In silence, then Carter stopped. They had reached one of the boundaries of tbe wood, I beyond which lay the fields leading to the I road. | "I'm not coming any further," he said quietly. The keeper looked him over. "Better come, sir," he said meaningly. "I . tell yon I won't," cried Carter..] ""D-you think I'm going to be the laughing! ■stock of the village? Caught poaching my own landf" For a moment the keeper looked keenly ey___

"I-ook here, sir," ___ ££ at -.. J' were a good master to.me. bat . ■■ mi i--I know," said the other. >*__, i. __ dead, long live the king." ""H* "Aye," replied the keeper, •«__»_._-._-_ it, but I'm loath to take,.., _$%_%£ my dooty is clear enongh " W * 1 "I tell yon _ won't come," _r._d.-_-. "" again. -"'^.pßter "Pardonme, st., ?„_._ ,„ e __; vy.£ • two of yoar build. Bat I fell y on "J*!? game to do, if _*_. Uke to chance. I'll meet you at your hour's time. ™ ride governors have kept for mc, down %M? place. You can take a hundred „__, sg on Golden Chance, and if Jon "£ yon can go clear and no one shall __ wiser; but If I catches yon afore dnm Golden Chance belongs to mc and you cam. before the magistrates. It's a _po«_* offer, slr-and I'd look after ___ c 'os. w__J "By gad," cried Carter, »_ __ _» k _ ,___., "Ton will, sir? Good. I'll be .round _t the corner of yonr lane.ln an hoar. But wihichever way things go, this .is between ourselves; it'd mean the sack for me,.___ I'd lose my character—bnt I want ttat mare." The next hour passed quickly to Carta who returned home at a double, and :___» the time allotted Mm la looking to the *__«, Here was his chance. All the neighbo©. hood knew of hts downfall, and many tl____ were who wished him far away from.-, __> home of Ms boyhood; for there fa some, thing dispiriting In failure to those wfca have never deviated from' the even tenor _t their way. Golden Chance could prate 05 mettle now, for the bay Fumes, that ti keeper was to ride was of her own. nelgU and age—and was well known i 0 __£___, rounding country for her speed. Soon Golden Chance was saddled, and __» and her master were standing' beside- tte gate waiting for the keeper; and a ltt__ before the appointed time Fnmess to_____ the corner. ~ , t ' _ '- " "Ready, sh-?* ■ ■'.' "Yes. I'U mount at once. 'Av_nn__t-_ yards, yon said?" "Bight, str! That'll take- yon .to rjhg-cn. ot the popnlars—and may the best'inta' win." ... Carter leaped Into his -addle., and w_j soon beneath the trees indicated; ufea •!_.!»". drew rein and turned-, and at that. moaco. . he saw Harker lean forward—the race __d begun. With a cry to Golden Chance, Cuter called upon his lucky star, and set hnnstif firmly in the saddle. ..,.-. Past cottages and farms they- sort. Carter keeping his distance and bo-Hug ___ mare in, trying to make her -Te_tr_lir;___:; speed until it should be necessary to fate. the pace—and so itb-ey dashed' on. inh>o___ night. ■"-.";.-.' Suddenly he heard Fun-ess' boots ri__i_g out on the hard road—nearer and. _«___ I With a low cry he dug Ms _-_____-_ Golden Chaivce's flanks and sparred dec' on j towards the open conntry—with Harker tn the bay following rapidly in Ms wake?!

On, on they went, Golden Chance toep. •ing her ground magnificently, and Csrtw with set teeth, end staring eyesurglilg-'lier j on. He bad lott his bearings bow, forttie rain, was falling heavily, blinding his ij% and soaking jtim through, to the skis.;. Somehow he feit that Harker was sstoing upon, him; he would not turn to mtke certain, for h> trusted to bis intnkkm,-uil yet he felt thai he was riding to win. He did sot doubt fo* one second, the xiptblttties of his mount—*nt in-some'.'tigiieliaj he mistrusted himself —and yet be felt,.mj, he knew, tSiat tie keeper wooli'tatt' ow take him, that scan he would fi& tKJjbntf.Uie man's power." '.■"' "' *^**K<r&&: Now Tie was. in 1 the road again, recinfrllki mad through the... etorm-svept - coiobsj Golden Chance was jrtuvfeg'nls' falfta. in net; and it seemed to her master that she nilsstood that this -nras her last opportunity at v retrieving her past. The- mind of tlie master is the sonl of St animal, and' as Carter's mind" was fall rf a mad longing to throw off his parsnerj n Golden Chance leapt at the wind and' gel with, her master onwards into the filter and freedom! Bnt her 'breath, was coming fast now, -Mi her head' had dropped a little; Btfl! 6s kept her pace unswervingly. Snddenly Carter turned, ana saw Bitbf on his bay, not ten yards behind him. WBI a cry he put Golden Chsnce at the help to his left; her body roee to it, and at.ttil second he saw Hnrier lean forward Mi Shout something to 'him; but whtt it-.wa he could not hear; and a moment later l< was sinking, down, down—clntclmij at I* ah- wildly, crying, shrieking—then sometUH seemed 'to surge over him, and all wag rfll 3 Golden Chance had carried her maefiet t» ' victory: and through, the long night thej.Hl: side by side on the excavated ground at Hi bottom of the chalk pits. Golden Chance and her master tad -HI. by a hazard. Carter had ridden to Wtt-