“THE BRUNDAGE PLOT” Instalment 11.

Manawatu Times, Volume LIV, Issue 7270, 25 September 1933, Page 9

“THE BRUNDAGE PLOT”

Instalment 11.

(By E. C. BULEY)

CHAPTER Xl.—(Continued)

“Mr Lacey,” Jane called, "have those horses and jockeys got out of the canal?”

"How do I know?” was the unfeeling reply. “What a question to ask. Look, Jane —Jabez! Steady, boy! Only two more jumps now. Jabez! By golly!" Jane turned her attention to the few horses new left in the race. They were nearing the penultimate jump. Melissa’s jacket was there, just behind something in brilliant scarlet. Jabez gained at the jump. "Saucepan!” shrieked a shrill woman behind them. “Saucopan!” There were only two in It. Jabez was still gaining, but Saucepan rose first at the last jump. He struck into it and stumbled badly on landing. He was almost down.

But Jabez cleared the obstacle with the steady ability he had displayed throughout the race. They were together for twenty strides. Then Jabez began to forge to the front. Jane, the only dispassionate person in the box, watched her friends go momentarily insane. Even the collected and dignified Melissa shouted Instructions —entirely unnecessary—to her jockey. It seemed so silly, when Jabez was three clear lengths- in front, and the second horse easing up. So did the orgy of hand-shaking and kissing seem silly to Jane; though she was involved in it. Fortunately, they were all too excited fo notice her lack of enthusiasm and display. Jane hated herself for it, but the jubilation and triumph only emphasised her own gnawing anxiety. "Come along, Melissa, you must lead in the winner!” Lacey instructed. They swarmed out of the box in a body, tho observed of all observers. Jane, looking about her, caught one glimpse of Marlse Formby, white with disappointment, and a passion which ■struck the girl as deadly. The dense crowd made way for the little party, crying that here was the owner of the winner.

Jane saw her sister take the rein, and then slipped away unnoticed. At the casualty room she found the genial attendant, ready to answer any question?- put by a pretty girl. "No, madam, nobody has been hurt.,” he said, pocketing Jane’s lip. "A most successful race; no holes in the portrait, as the saying goes." .

"What about the riders who went Into the canal?"

"They got wet,” he said oracularly. "Take It from me, they did. They’ll ride back in the ambulance, wringing wet, mark my words, and here’s the ambulance to prove it.”

CHAPTER XU. A policeman assisted Brundage to climb out of the canal, and also helped him with the thoroughly subdued Hummingtop, whose fires had been quenched by the sudden immersion. One of those bystanders who think of the right thing lit a cigarette and offered it to the drenched jockey. Then Brundoge watched the salvaging of Mr George Withers and Hodman. To Hodman’s jookey Brundage felt some apology was due. “Sorry, Digger,” he sold. "I couldn’t get the goat to believe 'that- ho had to turn left after that jump.” Withers acknowledged the apology with a sheepish grin. “Serves me right," ho said. "1 thought I could heat you to that jump. Bad luok, too; we had it between us if we could have made tho curve. A bit parky, isn’t it? Thank heaven for the ambulance.”

Stablemen arrived to look after the horses, and like two drowned rats the jockeys climbed into the ambulance, glad of any shelter from the keen March wind. Brundage, who thought the other man was taking it remarkably well, renewed his expression of regret.

"I yelled to you to take the Inside," he said. "You could see the horse was in charge. That chestnut thing that kept company with me early on, he did the mischief.” Withers looked at him, a bit queerly, Brundage thought. “It’s all in the game, chum," he said philosophically. "In a way of speaking, it’s a sort of nemesis."

"A what-er?” Brundage asked, emptying a pint of water out, of one boot.

“A nemesis," Withers salrl. "There’s no need to mention it, of course, hut. ] don't mind telling- you that the chestnut was out to help my fellow. He came from the same stable, you see. Tire Guv’nor had a big packet of the sweep money about Hodman —the horse I rode into -the water.” “I see," Brundage remarked thoughtfully.

"Nothing to do with me," Withers continued. “All I was told was that Frank Burke would look after me—with loose horses and what not. I saw what he was doing. A dirty tyke, if you ask me.” "Ah, well!” Brundage sighed. “You’re not the sort to pass what I say on to anybody, I suppose?” "Not a peep,” Brundage promised. “Thanks a lot for the lip. I might have thought of some oilier reasons.”

“What a dog’s life," Withers continued. “Hundreds of people wishing you luck as you go out. And thousands trying lo kiss you if you happen to win. But what reception do we get, old son, when we crawl down like a pair of qualified drowned rats?” "No flowers, by request,” Brundage agreed.

"We’ll be allowed to look after ourselves,” Withers prophesied “Not a soul to say ‘Hard luck!’ When we've had a hot shower and got into dry clothes, and surrounded a cup of tea, the sour-faced swine will start abusing us."

“All in the game,” Brundage murmured.

“This morning it was, ‘Who is Brundage?’” Withers went on. “ Who is the wonderful rider of mystery?’ To-morrow it will be, ‘Brundage, the swimming jockey.’ What?” “You know it all, digger!” Brundage admitted, wincing at the final suggestion. The ambulance stopped and they descended wearily. “What did I say?” Withers demanded. “Not a soul to bother whether we are drowned or only frozen.” Brundage saw .lane before the jockey had completed his jeremiad. She came forward with anxiety in her 'eyes, and relief as well. Withers took '•one startled look and bolted for cover. Brundage was conscious of the squelching noise ills-boots,.made,-but

he was conscious of a wonderful warmth somewhere in Iho region 01 his heart.. “Hello, Jane!" he said. ’Have you come to see the medal 1 got for swimming?” „. "I'm ever so sorry,” Jane said. Are you all right? Tell me what happened.” “I let young master get the upper hand,” the rider admitted. “.Never mind, I’ve discovered who my pals are.”

“Meaning me?” Jane ashed. “Meaning nobody else, as far as I can see,” Brundage said. “And I’ve just seen the point of an English joke that worried me for years.” “Then the ride wasn’t a complete wash-out," Jane remarked. “Are you too wet to tell me the joke?” "A Lancashire comedian cracked A in Sydney years ago. Something about a Manchester man who fell down on the canal and broke his leg. They missed the point in Australia, but I follow him now. There was more than water in that canal, Jane.” “Go and change into dry things, Jane said. “I’m glad you’re all right.” “See you again when I've got my business" done," Brundage promised. “Don’t believe them if- they tell you I’m up to things that you wouldn’t do yourself” ' Jane nodded and went away, meditating upon the cryptic utterance. She felt able now to join in the family rejoicings. It was grand to think _ than Melissa had won the Grand National, and that Marise Pormby had suffered such a signal defeat. Oh, a. wonderful score! Melissa, in the sweetest moment of victory, had not failed to notice the absence of her sister. And it was a great relief now to see her lifting a glass of champagne, smiling and apparently as happy -as anybody there. She took the first chance of a lew words apart. “Where did you get to, Jane? she began. _ “Where do you think?" Jane laughed “i—i wanted to see how he took •his cold bath. My dear, he took it like a sportsman, and the water was oozing out of his boots. And I m ever so glad that you won, and that Marise was beaten.” “Sure vou are not disappointed? “I am delighted,” Jane said stoutly. “If you think I took a queer way of allowing it, I can only -say that I was afraid he might be drowned. But, honestly, if I had planned it all, the race couldn’t have turned out more to my fancy.” ~ . “Good old kid I" Melissa said. 'That makes, it perfect. But you missed Marise Formby, Jane. She was so disgruntled that she hadn't even, the spirit to talk to me. I feel rather sorry for your Brundage when he accounts for himself to her.” “If you knew him as I do,” Jane reported! “you might even find it in your heart to "be sorry for Marise.” Marise, however, had no thought of blaming her jookey for the mishap which had put Hummingtop out of the race. Her trainer’s comments had sunk into her mind very deeply, and she had built upon them a fabric constructed entirely of her own supposition. For Marise. a? already indicated, was something of a monomaniac. . Burke, of course, bad deliberately schemed the downfall of Hummingtop, but Marise was quite sure that Burke was the mere tool of somebody else. Why doubt for one moment that ills villainy had been instigated by Lady Burr-and-Asche? Had not Jabez won the race? and had not that woman and her friends displayed an indecent triumph in the hour of victory—which was alono enough to convict them of the vilest malpiactiocs ?

Yes, Marise was an angry woman, and a vengeful one, as she waited to talk it all over with Brundage and her trainer. Brundage was in no hurry t-o obey her imperative summons. He took his time over a hot hath and the assumption of dry clothes, and he lingered over the quiet drink to which the sympathetic trainer invited him. When Godsell said, not once, but three times, that-Miss Formby was waiting to see him. it was as though the remark had fallen oupon deaf ears. In the end Mari.-e had to seek him. “Are you avoiding me with the impression' that I might blame you. Mr Brundage?” she asked, in her most gracious manner. “Because all I have to say is that nobody could ‘have ridden better, or even so well, as yourself.’ “That’s very sporting, Miss Formby Brundage answered. “If 1 could only have twisted him round that bend we’might have won, though he certainly behaved like a pig.” “Of course, he did, when Burke was out to upset him,” Marise said ea fe erly. “I wanted your advice about laying a complaint against that man." “Not a bit of good, Miss Formby,” Brundage said. “What Bui'ke did may have been deliberate, but who is to prove it? He would have just as good a chance of complaining about my riding. When the horses collided, Hummingtop was more to blame than the other. If I complained, I should be told not to ride in such a race If I couldn’t manage my horse.”

“But you are satisfied that Burke deliberately upset my horse?" “I think that he did,” Brundage agreed. “But a complaint will not hold water. You gave the mount to a rider who’d never been over the country; to an unknown man. And the stewards would remind you of it if you were ro foolish as to complain." “I suppose you are right,” Marise agreed. “In any case I see no sense in punishing Burke when the real -offender gets off scot free.” '“Then let’s forget It,” Brundage said, refusing, as usual,, to betray any decent curiosity. “Just the same, if that Burke were a bit bigger, I might have taken a quiet crack at him.” Marise considered him thoughtfully for a moment. For the first time it occurred to tier that tie was not merely dense, and that he neglected her opening wilfully. “That would -be “an as complaining.” sh'e -sail!. “This is hardly the time anil "place to decide what ought to be done, but I’m glad ‘hat you feel, as I do, that it must not end here. We’ll go thoroughly into it later, Mr Brundage; \ have a plan for reaching the person who is really responsible.”

(To be Continued.j