patience, Sarah declared that she didn't care what Chifney had said when
he just managed to squeeze his horse's head in front in the last dozen
yards, she wanted to know what the Demon had done to so nearly lose the
race--had he mistaken the winning-post and pulled up? William looked at
her contemptuously, and would have answered rudely, but at that moment Mr.
Leopold began to tell the last instructions that the Gaffer had given the
Demon. The orders were that the Demon should go right up to the leaders
before they reached the half-mile, and remain there. Of course, if he
found that he was a stone or more in hand, as the Gaffer expected, he
might come away pretty well as he liked, for the greatest danger was that
the horse might get shut out or might show temper and turn it up.

"Well," said Mr. Leopold, "there were two false starts, and Silver Braid
must have galloped a couple of 'undred yards afore the Demon could stop
him. There wasn't twopence-halfpenny worth of strength in him--pulling off
those three or four pounds pretty well finished him. He'll never be able
to ride that weight again.... He said afore starting that he felt weak;
you took him along too smartly from Portslade the last time you went
there."

"When he went by himself he'd stop playing marbles with the boys round the
Southwick public-house."

"If there had been another false start I think it would have been all up
with us. The Gaffer was quite pale, and he stood there not taking his
glasses from his eyes. There were over thirty of them, so you can imagine
how hard it was to get them into line. However, at the third attempt they
were got straight and away they came, a black line stretching right across
the course. Presently the black cap and jacket came to the front, and not
very long after a murmur went round, 'Silver Braid wins.' Never saw