Last Chance advanced sedately to his position, which was on the outer rail. Grayling, the favourite, had drawn the inner rail. Jake, obeying orders, swung his weight on Alibi's bit and dragged the rearing, plunging creature into the middle of the line. At that instant the starter jerked the trigger and yelled:
The whole thing happened in the flicker of an eyelid. As Jake released his hold, Alibi whirled at right angles and bolted for the inner rail, carrying Grayling, Ivy Leaf, Satsuma, and Jolson with him. They crashed into the fence, a squealing, kicking tangle, above which rose the shrill, frightened yells of the jockeys. This left but four horses in the race, and one of them, old Last Chance, passed under the barrier with a wild bound which all but unseated his rider. It was not his habit to display such unseemly haste in getting away from the post and, to do him justice, Last Chance was no less surprised--and shocked--than a certain young man of our acquaintance.
"Well, look at that lizard go!" gasped the Bald-faced Kid. _"Look--at--him--go!_"
"Honest Injun?" asked Hopwood. "Is he going--really?"
"Is he going! He's going crazy! And listen to this! That black thing carried a big bunch of 'em into the fence and they're out of it! Only four in the race and we're away flying! Do you get that? Flying!"
"Can't you hear the crowd hissing the rotten start?"
"Well," said Hopwood, "it--it's about time I had a little luck."
"That skate has got something besides luck with him to-day!" exclaimed the Kid. "I wonder now--did he try a powder after all? But no, he was quiet enough on the way to the post."
Seeing nothing ahead of him but mud and water, Jockey Gillis steered Last Chance toward the inner rail.
"Don't you quit on me, you crab!" he muttered. "Don't you quit! Keep goin' if you don't want me to put the bee on you again! Hi-ya!"
Montezuma, Bluestone, and Stuffy Eaton were the other survivors--bad horses all. Their riders, realizing that something had happened to the real contenders, drove them hard and on the upper turn Jockey Gillis, peering over his shoulder, saw that he was about to have competition. He began to boot Last Chance in the ribs, but the aged chestnut refused to respond to such ordinary treatment.