ADCUSLE JOSTLE

New Zealand Illustrated Magazine, Volume VI, Issue 2, 1 May 1902, Page 137

ADCUSLE JOSTLE

Illustrated by Trevor Lloyd.

LEENO'MORE, after the style of Rory of that ilk, believed , that "there's luck in

odd numbers," yet when suiters three came wooing she speedily despatched one, and allowed the

remaining evens to keep their jealous eyes upon her and each other through many months. The country-side watched too, and waited, growing impatient as the winter advanced. The evens were cousins, equals in wealth, health and age, but Gordon Royse had all the looks, and added charm as the horseman of his district, considering heredity's premonition that Eileen's heart could be entered only upon a winning mount. Lan Grant, passionately devoted to sport, flattered himself that he, too. could ride, though he possessed the single qualification of " pluck," while hands, seat and judgment lay with his rival. It was after a day in the hunting field that both lads (for they were little more), sat in their uncle's library arguing over a recent jostling case. The old man drew the pipe from his lips. "Look here, m'lads," he began, with a declamatory wave of the hand," you may say what you like, but it takes a jolly clever rider to do a successful jostle and not come

to grief himself over it. Now, Gordon y'know, would manage it beautifully, bat you lan, 'ud make au awful mull if you tried it, d'y'see ? "

Replacing his pipe he puffed in silence, while Gordon's face lighted with a smile which would have been fascinating had it not accentuated the conceit expressed in every feature. Lan heaved himself up from the deep lounge chair ; be crushed in the glowing embers with his riding boot, then turned with a red face to his uncle. " Good-night," he said, " I must be going." " What, so early ? " ' " I've far to ride, and I must get my allowance of sleep, unless Gordon's to beat me quite too easily on Wednesday ? " "Hey?" Gordon answered for his cousin — " We're to ride at Tenterdou, Mr. Fitzgerald's you know ; private meeting, awfully jolly. Believe I've got five mounts." Again that smile. Lan broke out — "And I've only one. But I'll win on him if I can." " Hope so, I'm sure," Gordon sneered. " You don't. You're in the race yourself, but you think I'm not good enough to count as dangerous." " Steady, boys ; you're not going to fight over a possibility — I can't wish either luck,

or both, as the case stands — " with a wink at Gordon, " look out he doesn't jostle you, he's clever enough, you know." " Upon my word, uncle — " Gordon began, his colour rising. A slow smile broadened lans honest face. " Thanks for the tip, uncle, I'll keep my eagle eye upon him." "Especially at the rails— if you've trot the inside running," the old man chuckled. "But if I have it?" cried Gordon, entering into the fun. "You're as safe as a church, tn'boy, I think I see him ousting you," and in the wheezy laughter which followed the words , lan left the room with a I gleam in his brown eyes •**,- jw which was not anger. Xi^&*' '<- w The day of the Tenterdon "^ & \ meeting dawned clear and '^3j& \ cold. The course was in i& capital order, and as the atten"- n Iss'"% dance swelled to a crowd Miss Eileen might be seen leaning * ' \$ from the front of the improvised j^n"L stand, watching the arrivals until '-■£<>& Gordon a^d lan joined her almost at ■ --^-p—^_ 4\ '■ -, .*'£■ the same time. W^'il f'i" «If I get the inside 't^U^^M running—" Gordon _^^2?' "j *^®fi was saying, as lan rr^^ J; >w V J came up and inter- i^^t^rui'y <fc S: rupted him. <SJftr % B V»ff it xr ■■' mh JiHt "Blou won t catch Hf» / : >/: ~* the judge's eye, old 'i^W^ boy," he said, as he JTjir )7j held Eileen's hand £*fc*--J/ for a second. Gordon's satirical smile was lost upon lan, he was watching the small hand nestle back into the brown sealskiu muff, which matched the sealskin coat above it, and brought out the Irish blue of the eyes under the velvet toque. His own eyes got no further, for she raised hers and asked him — " What am I to do ? I want you both to win, and I want to back you both ? " '* It will be a certain thing if you do

that," said Gordon. Her eyes contracted. " How so ? " she asked sharply. "Ask him" — indicating Ian — "I'm not my own trumpeter," and he strolled off. " He means that he's safe to win? " lan replied to her glance of inquiry. "You see he doesn't count on me at all in the wh \e thing."

She lookedjup quickly. " I do," came from her firm red lips ; then at the*fire*in his eyes her own fell to the spars on his heels. " What murderous weapons!" She laughed to hide her embarrassment. 44 1 seldom use them." She smiled again, this time because folks said he did to hold on with. Before the luncheon adjournment Gordon

had won twice, receiving his friend's congratulations as his due with that eternal smirk which was driving lan desperate with desire to take him down.

The latter passed Gordon and Eileen seated upon the same rug, and caught the word " jostle," and the laugh which followed it. He divined that Gordon was repeating their uncle's words, and that she was laughing at him.

He munched his sandwich and swallowed his sherry, then went to weigh in, for the

next was to be his race his race the thought brought back that small admission, " I do." He would show her that he could win it — or that he could ride, even though a losing race. The horses were out, seven in all, a fair field for the ladies' bracelet at a private steeplechase meeting. Two were nominated in Eileen's name, and as Gordon Royse cantered past upon his black mare, looking a mere featherweight

for all his long limbs, people called the prize already hers. Then came lan Grant, square in the saddlo, firm as a rock — and as heavy, with sinews behind the reins which would not relax their hold, nor could they give and take to the needs of the superb chestnut he bestrode. He never glanced at the staud as Gordon had done, but went straight to the starting post where Gordon got the inside place. The black mare was leading as they

passed the stand the first time, but she struck the wall just beyond heavily, and almost came down. Gordon saved her cleverly, bringing a cheer from the crowd. Jan on the chestnut came steadily on, clearing the wall with feet to spare. " What a shame to put such a man on such a horse !" said someone. " Now, if the black rider had him " The words were lost in a shout as the black mare baulked at the double, and the chestnut sailed over and passed her.

Gordon drove her at ifc and literally forced her over, catching lan in the heavy plough beyond. Then they came along together until in the straight no one could jsee which led. "The black " "The chestnut!" went up the cry as they reached the rails, the latter leading by a neck, when suddenly the chestnut's rider deliberately pulled him to the near side and forced the black mare upon the timber, which gave way beneath her weight. She stumbled, recovered, and raced in half a length behind the chestnut. In the paddock loud protests arose, the crowd hooted, aud tearful women gesticulated and shrilly championed their favourite of the two riders. " Anyway you've won the bracelet," said a spiteful one to Eileen. " Bother the bracelet," she replied in a tone which silenced both congratulations and curious questions. lan's pretty sister cast herself upon Eileen, tears running from her sweet grey eyes. " It's the first time he's ever won. That horrid Gordon will enter a protest aud get the bracelet — oh " she sobbed. " I never was so disappointed in my life." Eileen put her gently from her, and walked to the side of the stand overlooking the saddling paddock. The stewards were gathered round lan, who was laughing in their grave faces. Close below her Grordon stood apart, his smile giving place to pale anger. She leant forward and spoke his name. He started, looked up, and obeying her gesture, was soon beside her upon the landing, half way up the stairs. "You are going to enter a protest?" Eileen enquired. "Yes; why?' " I hope you wiil not. His sister will be heartbroken — and at a friendly meeting like this. You were both wanting the same thing ?" she went on. " Yes, and I'd have won it if he hadn't jammed me out of it so — " he caught his breath — " meanly."

"It was a regular jostle!'' she said, quietly. Her words brought back their recent laughter at his uncle's caution to lan ; he could not make out if she was chaffing him or not. Beside himself between love and anger, he could hardly steady his voice to say: " We are both wanting the same thing still!" " This morning you said you would win if you got " "The inside running?" he whispered eagerly, her meaning dawning upon him. She met his burning eyes bravely. " And that may depend upon the protest." " There will be no protest," he said, and he ran lightly down the steps to join the stewards who called to him. Then there was an outcry against his decision not to protest ; and lan refused to accept the bracelet, owning that he had meant to jostle his cousin from before the race started, but refusing to give any reason for this other than that he wanted to prove that he could do it, which no one believed to be the true one. Things were smoothed over in the only way possible to prevent a regular row between the friends of either party, and the consolation was run in the early dusk, when one could barely distinguish the moving horses at the back of the course. As the few remaining tenants of the stand stepped to the lower benches to see the finish, lan laid his hand on Eileen's arm. " Wait a minute. I want to speak to you," he said. She turned at his voice with a flush which deepened the colour the cold had already brought to her cheeks ; her great j'eproachful eyes gleamed starlike in the dingy light. "How could you?" she asked, drawing away from his touch, "and yon were winning anyway." " Any horse can win, but it takes a rider to jostle successfully, and I couldn't resist the temptation to let you and my uncle and that grinning prig see that I can ride even

though I don't always win — but I haven't brought you the bracelet." His regretful, dejected tone said more for him than any words could have done. " I don't want the bracelet — 1 hate it for all this fuss there's been. I was never so sorry in " Her quivering tone was more than he could bear. " There's something else I'm dying to give you if only I could hope that you care to — tohave it " The racing horses and cheering crowd

drowned his boar&e utterance to all ears but hers. With a swift glance around he satisfied himself that all backs were toward them — up in the shadow his arms went out, and he whispered : " Say again ' I do.' " " But what will Gordon say ?'" she asked as he led her to the waggonette. " Probably that I have jostled him again, only this time he hasn't the chance of a protest."