The Hundredth Chance

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  THE FIRST OF THE VULTURES

  Christmas Day was a farce in which Jake, Maude and Bunny each playedtheir appointed parts with somewhat dreary zest. The brother and sisterhad drawn much closer to each other during the past fortnight in whichthey had been thrown together. The old quick understanding, the oldcomradeship, had revived between them, and on Bunny's part there wasadded to it a certain protectiveness that created a new and even moreintimate element in their intercourse. In a fashion their positionswere reversed. Maud leaned upon him as he once had leaned upon her, andhis sturdy support comforted her sick heart.

  As for Jake, he went his way among his animals, spending his time almostexclusively with them during that day and the days that followed. Hewas very quiet, invariably kind, but there was about him a suggestion ofstrain behind his composure, a hint of something terrible, as of a manhiding a mortal wound. He never talked about the animals now, and hedid not welcome even Bunny in the stables.

  "He's fretting his heart out over them," the boy said, and Maud knewthat he spoke the truth. The thought of the coming parting with themhurt him to the soul.

  Sam Vickers knew this also, and watched him in mute sympathy. He wouldhave given all he had to avert this bitter blow from the boss, but hecould only stand and look on.

  It was on the last day in the year, a biting, sunless day, that hesought him late in the afternoon with a visiting card in his hand.

  Jake was leaning on the half-door of the loose-box in which was lodgedthe black colt of his dreams--The Hundredth Chance. The animal's headwas nuzzled against his shoulder. There seemed to be a perfectunderstanding between them.

  But at sight of Sam the colt started back. He was suspicious of all theworld but Jake.

  Jake looked round, his face grey in the failing light. "Hullo! What isit?"

  Sam came forward and gave him the card. "Mrs. Bolton was out, sir, andhe asked for you; said he'd wait in the yard, sir."

  Jake bent his brows over the card. It bore a name that seemed vaguelyfamiliar to him though in what connection he could not for the momentrecall:--Monterey W. Rafford. Jake looked up. "He's no friend of mine.Do you know what he wants?"

  "Said he was a friend of Dr. Capper, sir," said Sam.

  "Oh, that American chap! I remember now. All right, Sam. I'll seehim." Jake gently pushed back the colt's enquiring nose, closed theupper half of the door, and strode off down the stone passage that ledto the yard.

  The visitor was standing under a lamp, a slim young man with a dark,keen face that broke into a smile at Jake's approach. He moved to meethim, speaking in a voice that betrayed his nationality at the firstword.

  "I am very pleased to meet you again, sir, though no doubt you haveforgotten me."

  They shook hands. Jake was looking at him with steady eyes. "No," hesaid, in his slow way, "I think you are the sort of man that doesn't getforgotten very easily."

  Rafford laughed. He had an easy, well-bred laugh. "Capper doesn'tbelieve in me," he said. "He declares I'll never get there. P'rapshe's right. It doesn't concern me very much either way. Anyway, I'vegiven up sending sick people to sleep for the present. I'm out on myown this journey. How is your young brother-in-law? Cure complete?"

  "Absolutely." Jake was still looking at him hard. "If it's not a rudequestion," he said deliberately, "is that what brought you?"

  The American met his look with a flicker of the eyes that betrayed ahint of wariness. "It's not a rude question, Mr. Bolton," he said."And it is not what brought me. I'm after art treasures at the presentmoment. To be particular, I'm after Saltash's wonder in marble, _TheFallen Woman_. We did a deal over that marble, he and I, in New Yorkthe other day. He was showing me a card-trick, and--I--spotted--theknave."

  Rafford suddenly drawled, and Jake's eyes grew brighter.

  "Come inside!" he said.

  But Rafford shook his head. "No, not right away if you don't mind.There's a little light left. Will you show me the animals?"

  Jake's right hand clenched on his whip. "Have you done a deal over themtoo?" he said, sinking his voice very low.

  "No. But I've got an idea," Rafford said. "I'll tell you what it ispresently. You've got some valuable stock here, I'm told. Say, Mr.Bolton, you don't object to showing me round?"

  His smile was disarming. Jake swung round on his heel without anotherword.

  They went from stable to stable, inspecting one after another of Jake'streasures, Jake himself reciting the record of each. He began the touralmost in silence, speaking only words of bare necessity, but in somemagnetic fashion Rafford broke through his reserve. His quietenthusiasm reached and fired Jake. Gradually the glow kindled, thebitterness passed from him, he became himself in his own element, heopened his heart to the stranger because it seemed that he understood.

  It was a long inspection, and darkness was upon them before it ended.They came last of all to the home of The Hundredth Chance, and here withhis favourite's nose tucked confidingly into his arm Jake told hishopes, his dreams.

  Rafford listened with a sympathy that was scarcely perceptible in hisspeech yet of which Jake was very strongly aware, or he had not soexpanded. Later he marvelled himself at his own candour, but at thetime it seemed wholly natural, even inevitable. By that mysteriousforce which makes men know each other as comrades even from afar, herecognized in Rafford the one quality that his soul demanded.Circumstance had flung them together for an hour, circumstance wouldpart them again, but for that hour the bond of sympathy between them wascomplete.

  In the end he remembered again the coming loss, the crushing failure ofall his plans, and the bitterness came down upon him afresh, anoverwhelming burden forcing him down. He fondled the colt, and with agentle hand closed the door upon him. "Yes," he said heavily, "givenfair treatment he'll turn out a winner, but I shan't be here to see it."

  "What's come to Saltash?" Rafford questioned. "He seems ready to throwup everything."

  "Yes, that's him," Jake said. "But then he hasn't had the working up ofthe Stud as I have. It's nothing to him to part with the animals. Theywere no more than a pastime."

  "And not always a creditable pastime at that?" suggested Rafford. "Iguess you're too straight for him, Mr. Bolton. He's a crooked devil--buta curiously likable one." He smiled as if at some reminiscence. "Well,what's your opinion? Do you think he could be persuaded to sell thisshow privately if he got a good offer?"

  Jake's reserve came down upon him like a mask. "I can't say. You'dbetter go to his agent, Bishop."

  Rafford was still faintly smiling. "I've just come from him. Hepractically sent me to you. I've just paid him Saltash's price for thestatue. She will be on her way to America with me in a fortnight. ButI'd like to bring off this deal before we go."

  "It doesn't rest with me," Jake said, doggedness in every line.

  "No, I know. But I'd like to feel that I've got you behind me. Mypatron would like to know that."

  "Who is your patron?" Jake asked.

  "His name is Ruse. You mayn't have heard of him, but he's quite wellknown in a good many circles--specially on our side. He has taken afancy for horse-racing and he will probably drop a lot of money over itbefore he's done; that is, unless he's lucky enough to retain you forhis trainer."

  A hot gleam suddenly kindled in Jake's eyes, and as suddenly died. "Ireckon that won't be possible," he said, "Lord Saltash will see tothat."

  "Saltash may not be able to prevent it," Rafford observed quietly."Ruse will want a trainer, and when I tell him how your heart's in thejob, it wouldn't surprise me if he persuaded you to keep it on. Youwouldn't be very hard to persuade, I take it?"

  Jake hesitated momentarily, then passed the question by. "Is your friendin England?" he asked.

  "He will be in England very soon after the deal is completed--if it iscompleted," Rafford answered.

  "Won't he want to see the Stud
first?" Jake's voice was quietlybusiness-like. He seemed to have put all personal considerations away.

  "I doubt it." Rafford said. "The value of the Stud is well-known,and--to let you into a secret--he is mad keen on securing it. You won'ttell Saltash that of course, or Bishop, who, I understand, is empoweredto act on his behalf. But I think Saltash will get his price withoutmuch haggling. My patron is particularly anxious to prevent the Studcoming on the market. He is prepared to offer something better than amarket price to make sure of it."

  "He must be a very remarkable man," observed Jake.

  "He is, sir; a very remarkable man, a man who never misses hisopportunities. And in consequence he is on the whole very seldom aloser. It would be a great mistake to let him slip through yourfingers--a very great mistake."

  Rafford spoke with earnestness. His dark face was alight witheagerness.

  Jake looked at him, faintly smiling. "You have an interest at stake?"he suggested.

  "Only the interest that makes me want to push a thing to success. Ihave full powers though." Rafford's face reflected his smile. "When mypatron got news of this thing, shall I tell you what he said to me?Just 'Clinch!' I shall go to Bishop to-morrow, and carry oat thoseinstructions, if I can, to the letter."

  "You won't do it in a day," Jake said. "Maybe you'd like to put up atmy place pending negotiations."

  Rafford's hand came out to him with impulsive friendliness. "No, sir.You're more than kind, but I won't do that. I've seen the animate andI've seen you. That's enough. You and I mustn't get too intimate overthis deal. You know what Saltash is. When we've pulled it off, I'll bedelighted--if there's still time." He gripped Jake's hand hard, lookinghim straight in the face. "You've given me a real happy hour, Mr.Bolton," he said. "And I shan't forget it. It was mighty generous ofyou, considering you regarded me as the first of the vultures. Well, Ihope I shall be the last. So long!"

  "So long!" Jake said. "I hope you will."

  He accompanied the young man to the gate, and watched him go.

  Then squarely he came back again, walked straight up the middle of theyard, looking neither to right nor left, went into his own house, andshut the door.

  Late that night when Maud rose to go upstairs, he came out of what hadapparently been a heavy doze before the fire and spoke for the firsttime of his own affairs.

  "Bunny told you some time ago that the Stud was to be sold, I believe?"he said.

  Maud stood still on the hearth, looking down at him. The questionevidently startled her, for her breath came suddenly faster. "Yes, hetold me," she said.

  "Why didn't you tell me you knew?" said Jake. And then he saw that hisabruptness had agitated her and leaned forward to take her hand.

  She suffered him to take it, but she was trembling from head to foot."I didn't think--you wished me to know," she said.

  He bent his head slightly so that only the shining copper of his hairmet her look. "It wasn't--that," he said slowly. "At least not atfirst. Just at first I didn't want to bother you. Afterwards,--well, Iguess I'm an independent sort of cuss and I was afraid you'd want tofinance me when you knew I was to be kicked out."

  "I did want to, Jake," she said quickly.

  He nodded. "I know. I was mighty ungracious over it. I've been sorrysince."

  "Jake!" She stooped a little, a quick dawning of hope in her pale face;but he kept his head bent.

  "No," he said. "The answer is still No. I don't want to hurt yourfeelings any, but I can't live on any one's charity. If there'sanything under the sun that I can do to serve you, I'll do it. But Ican't do the pet-dog business. For one thing I'm not ornamental enough.And for another, it ain't my nature."

  He paused a moment, but Maud made no attempt to speak. Only the hopehad all died out of her face, and she looked unutterably tired.

  Jake went on. "Just when your uncle died, you were feeling extralonely, and--" his voice sank a little--"you turned to me for comfort.But I didn't flatter myself that I had become permanently necessary toyou. I knew you never intended me to think that. I saw it directly wemet again. You fancied yourself under an obligation to me. You werewilling--because of that--to give me anything I wanted. But it's cometo this. What I really want is not in your power to give, and I can'taccept less. For that reason, I've got to live in my own house, not inyours. I don't want you to feel bound to live with me, I know mysetting never was good enough for you either. You can come to me justsometimes, and I shall be honoured to receive you. But I'd like you toknow that you are absolutely free to come or go. I'm not insisting onmy rights, just because I've learnt that it doesn't make for happinesson either side."

  Again he paused, but still she did not speak.

  Quietly he resumed. "That brings me to what I set out to tell you aboutthe Stud. There is a chance--I think it's a good one--that it may bekept together after all. There is also a chance--a less promisingone--that I may be retained as trainer. If I am offered the post, Ishall accept it. If I am not offered the post, well, I shall have tostart again at the beginning. I shall have to rough it. So if thathappens, you will have to go your way and I mine."

  He ceased to speak, and his hand relinquished hers.

  Maud stood up. She was no longer trembling, but she was very pale.

  "I hope you will get the post," she said, after a moment. "You--I thinkyou would feel it if you had to part with the horses. They mean--somuch to you."

  "I belong to 'em," Jake said simply.

  She smiled a little with lips that quivered. "Then I hope you will havethem always," she said. "Good night--and thank you for beingso--explicit." She looked at his bent head, stretched a hand above italmost as if she would touch it, then drew it swiftly back and turned togo.

  A few seconds later she was ascending the stairs, still piteouslysmiling, with the tears running down her face.