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“They’re off!”

Nigger had got away well, and was lying third. The two first horses made the running, but Nigger was jumping faultlessly and going strongly—not gaining on the leaders, but keeping his place. All safely over the first three fences! But at the fourth, one horse fell, and another challenged Nigger and took third place. “He’s beaten!” thought Ann, for when they passed the stand the first time Marsh was last. But there wasn’t much gap between the horses, and at the sod wall another fell. Ann had her heart in her mouth at each mishap, but the jockeys rose again in a second, and apparently no damage was done to either horses or riders. At the back of the course Nigger moved up. He was third again—now he was second.

“By Jove! Nigger’s got a chance if he can stay the distance,” said Holmes.

Ann’s little figure was tense with excitement. Could he win? How wonderful if he could win! She hadn’t given a thought to the money she’d invested. She only longed for Rodney Marsh to prove himself right—to triumph. They were facing the last fence now, and the race resolved itself into a contest between Marsh and the leading jockey. Both over! But alas, the other horse gained at the jump. He flew his fences with scarcely an inch to spare. Nigger jumped bigger. Marsh’s opponent led by a length and a half as they entered the straight. But foot by foot Nigger came up—he had decreased the lead by a length—now he was drawing level, and now neck and neck they raced. Yells from the stand—Ann joining in the yelling! He was winning—Rodney was winning! He’d won!