Seeing Him Through: a racing story

Front matter

SEEING HIM THROUGH SEEING HIM THROUGH A RACING STORY BY NAT GOULD AUTHOR OF ' THE DOUBLE EVENT,' ETC. LONDON GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, Limited Broadway, Ludgate Hill CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAGE I. BLACK MONDAY ----- 7 II. DANBY'S OFFER ACCEPTED - - - - 17 III. UNDER THE HAMMER - - - 27 IV. VERA VECCHI - - - - - 37 V. A STORY WELL TOLD - - - - 47 VI. THREATS AND DEFIANCE - - - - 57 VII. GOING AWAY - - - - - 66 VIII. PLEASANT COMPANY - - - 76 IX. AT THE STABLES - - - - - 86 X. THE TWO LETTERS - - - - - 95 XI. KILLARA'S TRIAL - - - - - 105 XII. ACROSS THE BORDER - - - - 1 1 5 XIII. PAOLO VECCHI'S PLANS - - - - 125 XIV. A VILLA AT TOORAK - - - - 135 XV. PAOLO VECCHI GIVES ADVICE - - - 145 XVI. VERA'S INVITATION - - - - - 154 XVII. AT FLEMINGTON - - - - - 164 XVIII. FOUL RIDING - - - - - 175 XIX. THE PROTEST - - - - - 1 VI CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE XX.

AFTER THE MEETING - - - - 193 XXI. VERA IN PERIL ----- 202 XXII. DANBY AND VERA- - - - - 211 XXIII. VERA'S DESPAIR ----- 220 XXIV. DANBY'S WRATH ----- 229 XXV. AT ROSEHILL ----- 238 XXVI. SUSPENSE - - - - - - 247 XXVII. IN SELF-DEFENCE - - - - - 265 XXVIII. A SENSATIONAL TRAGEDY - - - 264 XXIX. A TRIUMPHAL ACQUITTAL ... 273 XXX. 'ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL'- - - 28 SEEING HIM THROUGH

Chapter I. Black Monday

It was settling-day, and the spring meeting of the Australian Jockey Club had been unfortunate for backers. Several well-known punters were hard hit, and there was every prospect of some of them being unable to come up to time. The scene at Tattersall's Club, in Pitt Street, Sydney, was bustling and ani mated. The spacious and richly-appointed club room was filled with men well known on the turf. A babel of sound penetrated through the open windows into the street below, where a crowd of miscellaneous hangers-on congregated. Across the road numerous men were standing on the pavement, discussing the events of the recent meeting, and adjourning at intervals to Adams's marble bar, which was almost as thronged as the club itself. A smart-looking sulky pulled up at the entrance to Tattersall's, and its appearance caused quite a buzz of excitement in the crowded street Men looked at the new arrival, and then spoke hurriedly to their companions : ' He's had a hard knock, they tell me,' said a seedy looking individual to a diminutive lad standing at his side. ' Thousands out.

Shouldn't care to settle his account,' responded the man-child, who was a j ockey. ' Some people reckoned he wouldn't be able to come up to time.' ' Then they knew very little of their man,' said the jockey. ' If there were more men like Ross Gordon, I guess the bookmakers would not have to grumble about bad settlements.' The man alluded to as Ross Gordon stepped out of his sulky, and went up the stairs to the club-room. It was after twelve o'clock, and his appearance had been anxiously awaited. When he entered the room there was a lull in the conversation. Then some of the bookmakers present could not repress a cheer, and the effect being contagious, others joined in, until there was a hearty round of applause. Ross Gordon nodded and smiled. ' I thought cheers were reserved for the victors,' he said. ' It's some consolation to be a loser under these refreshing circumstances.' ' There's not many losers like you, Mr. Gordon,' said Fred Otway, a well-known member of the ring. ' It seems to me it makes very little difference to you whether you win or lose — you always come up smiling.' ' Generally take things as they come,' said Ross Gordon. ' I am a bit late, but my settling will soon be over.' He walked up the room, nodding to several ac quaintances.

He was a handsome - looking young man, about thirty years of age, tall and well built, his athletic frame contrasting favourably with the fat, sleek persons surrounding him. His clear, piercing eyes looked fearlessly into the faces of these men, and it was evident that he was held in considerable respect. He walked up to a man at the farther end of the room, and said : ' You can settle for me, Walsden. I have the needful for you. How much is it ? Have you figured it out ?' 'Yes, Mr. Gordon. It's a stiff sum — close upon ten thousand pounds.' ' Quite correct. It is ten thousand, all but a few pounds. There's my cheque for the amount,' said Ross Gordon. ' I will see you when you have settled.' Horace Walsden looked after him admiringly, as he walked away, and thought to himself: • I wonder where he raised the money.

I'm dashed sorry for him. He's a man, he is, and no mistake about it.' Horace Walsden was quickly surrounded when he announced he would settle for Mr. Gordon. He checked off the amounts as they were claimed, and gave his own cheques for them. The last man to come up to him was a dark complexioned, foreign-looking individual. He might have been an Italian, or a Greek, or a mixture of both, which, as a matter of fact, he was. Horace Walsden looked at him with no friendly glance as he handed him a cheque for fifteen hundred pounds. ' That is correct, Mr. Vecchi ?' he said in a tone of interrogation. The man looked at it, and said with the faintest possible accent : ' Perfectly correct. Your cheque, I see : I am glad of that' The tone was insulting. It implied that he would have declined to accept Ross Gordon's cheque. ' I give my cheques merely as a matter of conveni ence,' said Horace Walsden warmly. ' There is Mr. Gordon's cheque.

I don't think you would decline to accept it.' When Paolo Vecchi saw the amount of the cheque, he looked surprised. ' You must have great confidence in Mr. Gordon,' he said. ' I have,' replied Walsden. ' A good deal more than I have in some people.' Vecchi could hardly mistake the significance of Walsden's tone and look, and a dangerous gleam came into his dark eyes. ' Ross Gordon is a ruined man,' he hissed. 'That cheque represents every penny he has in the world, and where he got it from is best known to him self.' 'You appear to be well acquainted with Mr. Gordon's affairs. It may be what you say is correct, and in that case I admire him more than ever,' said Walsden. He turned away and spoke to another man, and Paolo Vecchi went to the bar. Ross Gordon was standing there with two or three friends, and he saw Vecchi.

Their eyes met, and they looked at each other as only sworn enemies can. Vecchi raised his glass and nodded to Ross Gordon, who took no notice of him. ' I detest the sight of that fellow,' said Ross. Come and have a game at billiards, Danby.' ' Did you lose any money to him over the meeting?' said Danby Widdrington. ' Yes ; fifteen hundred, worse luck ! That is the only wager I regret having to pay. I should not have bet with him but I thought Killara was a certainty for the Derby, and I knew how he would hate losing to me,' said Ross. ' I say, old fellow, they tell me you are hard hit this time. You know how fond we all are of you — I mean our set. If there's any need of assistance, count upon us, and I shall be proud if you come to me first,' said Danby. Ross Gordon grasped his friend's hand, and there was a suspicion of a falter in his usually cheery voice as he said : 'You're a genuine friend, I have known that for some years.

You are quite correct ; I have been hard hit, but it is entirely my own fault, and there fore I must take the consequences. I wanted to have a chat with you, old friend. I'm about to ask a favour of you.' Danby Widdrington's face brightened up con siderably. ' It's granted, my boy, straight away, before I know what it is. If it's money, you're welcome to what you want. Thanks to a thrifty parent, Heaven rest his soul ! I have more than I care about handling. I have often wished you would use some of my spare cash for me, but you're such a touchy beggar in money matters that I dared not make you an offer.' The billiard-room was well-nigh deserted, and the friends sat down in a quiet corner. ' I will not accept money from you or anyone else, Danby. You know that well enough. My favour does not concern money matters.

I shall have to sell my horses,' said Ross, with a sigh. ' I'll buy the lot. How much do you want? I'll give you a cheque now ;' and Danby seemed quite excited at the prospect. Ross Gordon smiled at his friend's enthusiasm. ' I knew you would say that,' he said. ' You're a generous, big-hearted lump of humanity. Now, don't deny it, because you are. I cannot sell you my horses, because they are not my property. That sounds Irish, but it is true.' ' Then, if your horses are not your horses, whose horses are they, and how can I help you ?' ' I only arranged with the bank at eleven o'clock this morning to get the money to settle with. I had five thousand in the bank, and they advanced me another five on my horses. I tried hard to keep Killara out of the deal, but it was no go. Now, I want you to buy Killara when the horses are sold.

He's the best I ever owned, and it was not his fault he lost the Derby. You buy him, and he'll win the V. R. C. Derby for you sure enough,' said Ross. ' Is that all ?' said Danby ruefully. ' Allow me to inform you, Ross, that you have greatly insulted your best friends. How dare you give the bank the preference over me, for instance ? If you had come to me, I would have lent you the money with pleasure.' ' I know that,' said Ross ; ' it is the very reason I did not ask you. It would not have been fair. The bank advanced the money, and they take over the horses. They'll not lose by it.' 'You bet they won't! Why, all your horses are worth a heap more than five thousand, and they know it. Bank managers know the value of racehorses. We've had experience of that.' ' Will you buy Killara ?' asked Ross. ' Of course I will, and I'll buy two or three of the others.

Name the best, and I'll put 'em down. I'm a beggar to forget names. Forgot my own once when I was hauled up in a dog case.' Ross Gordon laughed as he said : ' I'd have given a trifle to have seen you before the bench on a charge of evading the lawful payment of a dog license.' ' No chaff. Give me the names of the best horses.' ' Buy Killara, and let the others go. What do you want with racehorses ?' ' I have been thinking of owning a few horses for some time,' said Danby. ' This is an admirable opportunity for me to make a start.' ' I have never heard of your intention before,' said Ross. ' You generally class men who own horses as fools, myself amongst the number.' ' I have changed my mind. A man with the money I have lying idle must invest it somehow. Why not in horses ?' said Danby. ' I believe you came to this unexpected determination about a quarter of an hour ago,' said Ross. ' Been thinking over it for months,' said Danby. ' Strange I have heard nothing of it,' said Ross with an amused smile. ' I didn't care to tell you,' said Danby ; ' I thought you would think me changeable.

Will you give me the names of the best horses to buy ? If you don't, hang me if I won't buy the lot.' ' Under the circumstances, I will tell you the horses to buy,' said Ross. ' Killara comes first, of course. Next to him there's Kempsey; then Ivanhoe, Marengo and Bushboy are all worth buying.' ' Is that all ?' asked Danby, who had put down their names. ' Yes ; that will be a very good start for you as an owner. Killara will not fetch more than five hundred after his defeat in the Derby, and old Bushboy will go for a trifle, but he'll win you a steeplechase,' said Ross. ' Now you must do me a favour,' said Danby. ' Depends what it is,' said Ross. ' You know how the land lies when you touch upon money matters, so beware.' ' That's all right,' said Danby cheerfully ; ' but I know you're not such a fool as to throw away a chance of earning money.

You're not too proud to work for a living ?' ' No, I am not,' said Ross. ' If you can put me into the way of earning money, I shall be only too glad to avail myself of the opportunity, providing I am competent.' ' When I am an owner of horses, I shall want someone to manage them,' said Danby. ' I prefer a man I can treat as a friend and an equal. You are an old friend, and if I buy these horses I want you to manage them for me.' Ross Gordon knew what this meant. His friend was determined to see him through, and this was his way of doing it. Danby Widdrington had been more like a brother to him than anything else. ' It is very good of you to put it in that way,' said Ross ; 'what your proposal means is that I am to retain the best of my horses, enjoy the management and racing of them as I have always done, and you are to find the money.' ' But think of the advantages I shall have in securing you for a manager.

You know the horses better than anyone, bar your trainer, and we can keep him on. I think it is a brilliant idea on my part. As to your salary, I suppose you'll not refuse to take one ; we shall not fall out about that. I'm a bachelor, and I've got a much larger house than I require. You can live with me. You don't know what a blessing it will be for me to have you in the house/ said Danby. ' You're the best friend a man ever had,' said Ross. ' Give me time to think it over. If I come to the conclusion I can fairly earn a decent salary from you, I'll accept your offer, but you must allow me to put a value on my services.' ' Put your own value on your services with plea sure, but if I don't consider you have done justice to yourself, I shall deal with you accordingly,' said Danby. 'I'll let you know to-morrow,' said Ross. 'The horses will be sold next week.

If I decide to accept your offer, I shall probably want you to buy a couple more.' ' The lot, if you like,' said Danby. ' By no means,' said Ross. ' Some of them are not worth their keep. We'll let someone else have a try at them.' They parted at the club door, and Danby Wid drington, as he saw Ross Gordon drive away in his sulky, thought : ' What a genuine fellow he is ! A real good pal, that's what I call him, and I'll stick to him through thick and thin.'

Chapter II. Danby's

offer accepted. Danby Widdrington had heaps of money ; at least, men said so, when alluding to his wealth. His father had worked hard and saved money, and as he saved, he bought land at a time when it could be had at a reasonable figure. When the price of land went up by leaps and bounds, Jacob Widdrington did not buy more, but sold what he had at a huge profit. Few men could lay hands on more ready money than old Jacob. He always had a big balance in several banks, and rumour credited him with hoarding up savings in divers secure places. When he died, his only son, Danby Widdrington, inherited his wealth, and was at a loss to know what to do with it. Ross Gordon came out to the colonies with a moderate fortune, and a letter of introduction from his father to Jacob Widdrington. As Jacob was dead, Ross Gordon delivered the letter to his son.

The two men at once struck up a friendship, which proved lasting. They thoroughly trusted each other, and Ross Gordon soon learnt to admire the sterling worth of Danby Widdrington. There was a vast difference in the two men. Danby Widdrington was of the slow and sure order, Ross Gordon somewhat rash and uncertain. Danby's movements were in keeping with his temperament, while Ross Gordon was full of activity and delighted in his strength. Both men were tall, and they were alike as to their ideas of what was manly and honour able. After his conversation with his friend, Danby Widdrington went home in an amiable frame of mind. He was a generous, big-hearted lump of humanity, as Ross Gordon had called him, and he delighted in doing good to others. A big, silly fellow, some men called him — an overgrown child.

They were mistaken. He was very sensible, but in some things had the simplicity of a child, and he was the more a man for it. Danby once accepted a challenge to fight a well-known pugilist who had been egged on to make sport of him. The pugilist never forgot the encounter. Danby gave him a thrashing, and this made the man his friend. It is strange how a professional fighter takes to a ' swell ' who has beaten him. Beaten by one of his own calling, he would hate the victor cordially, and burn to avenge his defeat. Danby Widdrington thought very little of his feat. He thought it would have been a difficult matter to vanquish Tom Anser, but he found it comparatively easy. This did not make Danby desirous of exhibiting his prowess, but it gave him satisfaction, because he felt, if he had occasion to get mixed up in a row, he could fight his way out of it.

Danby Widdrington's house was at Rose Bay, and commanded a glorious view of the harbour. It was a comfortable, old-fashioned place, built in the early days, and the trees had grown and flourished, and consequently the extensive grounds were nicely wooded. Danby's household was somewhat extensive for a bachelor. He had a worthy housekeeper, who was devoted to him, and she had three maids to do the work for her. He had a head-gardener, with two 2 — under-gardeners to do his work, and he had a coach man and groom, who had three helpers to assist them in their arduous labours. Branxton, as the house was called, was a noted place, and had been specially marked as a desirable house to live in by all classes of servants. Strange to say, the Branxton servants generally remained there when they were fortunate enough to secure a place.

It was some distance from Sydney, but the servants did not seem to mind this, and small wonder, when they had rooms of their own in which they assembled at night and made merry. Danby Widdrington was a generous master, and paid his servants liberally. After dinner he sat smoking in his own den — it can be called by no other name — and gloating with in tense satisfaction over the prospect of having Ross Gordon as a constant companion. Danby's den was suggestive of the man. Things in the room stood there as though they were too comfortable to be moved. Guns, fishing-rods, boxing-gloves, riding whips, boomerangs, spears, models of native canoes, pictures of dogs, horses and pigeons, were hanging on the walls or else stuck up in corners. It was a room of many corners, and all these corners seemed to be of use.

Danby's den was not often cleared out. He objected to it on principle. He had an affectionate regard even for the dust of his den, and therefore did not wish it to be disturbed. He said he wanted one room in the house to remain in a state of dire confusion, because it showed off the other rooms to greater advantage, and reflected more credit upon his housekeeper. Dogs, Branxton dogs, loved Danby's den. They made it their dwelling-place. It was the one spot in the house from which they were never hunted by energetic servants. Any dog entering Danby's den at once felt at home. There was a doggy look about the place that gave the visitors an impression that this room was sacred to dogs. The assortment of dogs at Branxton was large. There were big dogs, and little dogs, and dogs of medium size.

A huge St. Bernard and a toy terrier were the best of friends. Fox terriers were numerous, and a pug and a poodle claimed their share of Danby's den. Spaniels and retrievers were to be found at Branxton, also a couple of setters and pointers. These dogs were the bane of the housekeeper's existence. Half a dozen of them would follow Danby in solemn procession to his den, and when admitted select suitable corners, and mats upon which to rest. Sometimes Danby, as he sat in his chair, would call them round him, and, as they sat contemplating him, would converse with them in a language evidently understood by all parties. Danby discussed various topics with them. On this particular night, when he was thinking of Ross Gordon, he had the St. Bernard, the toy terrier, two spaniels, and a fox terrier seated round him.

He addressed the St. Bernard, as being the most imposing. ' We're going to have a pal here, Nero,' he said. Nero blinked, rolled his big eyes, looked at his com panions, and expressed as plainly as it was possible for a dog to do that there was no objection to a pal, provided he was one of the right sort. ' He's not quite made up his mind yet A disdainful look on Nero's face, as much as to say : ' More fool he, then, when such a comfortable home is offered him !' ' But he'll accept my offer, I feel sure,' went on Danby. ' He's a real good sort, and he's fond of dogs and horses.' A general wagging of tails by way of acclamation. Dogs wag their tails when they wish to give a vote in favour of anything. ' The sooner he comes here, the better. He'll be safe here. He'll not have so much temptation, and he'll be out of Paolo Vecchi's way.' The mention of Paolo Vecchi caused a slight frown to pass over Danby's face. ' He's a regular bad lot.

Wonder who he really is ! Looks like a brigand. Not that I'm much up in brigands, but he resembles pictures I have seen. What a strange thing he should have such a daughter, and she's not a bit like him ! I'm not much struck with actresses as a rule, but Vera Vecchi — well, she's a charming girl, and an exception must be made in her favour.' Nero rubbed his master's knee with his head, as much as to say : ' Speak up ; this is a bit slow. We don't appear to be in it.' Danby patted his head, and this aroused a feeling of jealousy in the other dogs. They insisted upon being patted all round. Order having been restored, Danby resumed his meditations. ' Vera Vecchi ' — he lingered over the name, and a soft look came into his eyes. ' I'm a fool. Nero, your master's an unadulterated ass. Here I'm sigh ing over Vera Vecchi, and all the time she's in love with my best friend, and he's equally in love with her, or I am very much mistaken.

It won't do, Nero. I must not be a traitor to my friend, even in my thoughts.' He got up and paced round the den, and the dogs followed him in solemn procession. He looked at them, and burst into a hearty laugh. ' We look uncommonly like a lot of nigger minstrels doing a walk round. Gentlemen, be seated.' He sat down, and the dogs did likewise. ' Gentleman to see you, sir,' said a servant at the door. ' Who is it ?' • Mr. Walsden.' ' Send him in here.' ' In here, sir ?' — in a tone of disgust. Danby laughed as he said : 'Yes; in here, Susan. Mr. Walsden is a bit of a dog-fancier.' Horace Walsden came in, and shook hands heartily with Danby. ' Pat the dogs, or we shall have no peace,' said Danby. ' They are beauties,' said Walsden. ' I always admire your dogs.' 'What's brought you here to-night?' said Danby.

Horace Walsden looked uneasy. He wanted to do a good action, and he didn't know how to set about it. ' The fact of it is, I want to speak to you about Mr. Gordon.' 'About Ross ? What's the matter ?' said Danby in alarm. ' Oh, he's all right in health,' said Walsden, smiling, ' but not in pocket, I'm afraid.' Danby looked at him, as much as to say : ' That's no business of yours.' ' I hope you will not think me impertinent, Mr. Widdrington, but I know you're Mr. Gordon's best friend : that's why I came to you. I paid his wagers this morning for him. I've heard it was all the money he had that he gave me. He handed me a cheque for ten thousand. I've got it here. I've not presented it. I'm not short of money, and I like Mr. Gordon. He's a manly, straightforward young fellow. That fellow Vecchi means him no good.

He hates him, and all the more because his daughter is partial to Mr. Gordon. Vecchi knows Mr. Gordon is short of money. Ruined, he said to me. How he knows is more than I can tell. I'd like to help Mr. Gordon, but I know he would refuse. Here's his cheque, Mr. Widdrington. Will you ask him to accept it from me as a loan ? He can pay me back when he makes a rise. I'd do a heap for Mr. Gordon. He reminds me of my poor lad who's gone.' There was a big lump in Danby Widdrington's throat, and his eyes were blurred. ' Horace Walsden,' he said, ' give me your hand. There, I'm better now. You're a good fellow. I would make Ross Gordon accept your generous offer if I could, and it were necessary.' ' Then, he's not ruined,' said Walsden. ' I'm right glad that Vecchi was wrong.' ' Ross Gordon is my friend, and to-morrow will be the manager of my racing establishment, when I get it,' said Danby. ' That's good news,' said Walsden. ' Don't tell him about the cheque ; I'll bank it to-morrow.' ' Look here, Walsden, leave that to me.

I may think it proper to tell him how kindly you have behaved in this matter,' said Danby. ' Keep it to yourself if possible,' said Walsden. 'Very well,' said Danby, ' but leave it at my option. By the way, have you heard much about Paolo Vecchi lately ?' ' One does not hear much about his doings out side the club. I have heard that since Mr. Gordon has been seen so much with Vera Vecchi he's treated her cruelly at home. He's a brute.' ' If Ross hears of it, he'll do something rash. That Vecchi's a dangerous man. He has a murderous look in his face at times.' 'When Mr. Gordon left the club to-day, Vecchi said he'd soon let himknowhe'd have no one hanging around his girl. He commenced to abuse Mr. Gordon until I had him stopped. He was told the club was not the place for one member to make in sinuations about another member in.

Vecchi said, if they were too particular to hear the truth in the club, he'd tell his tale elsewhere.' ' I wish Ross Gordon had never seen the girl,' said Danby. Then his conscience smote him. He had a very tender conscience for his friend, and he added : 'I hardly mean that. I wish the girl had a different father. She's all right, but he's a bad lot.' They sat talking for some time, and then Horace Walsden left. Next morning Danby received a note from Ross Gordon. He recognised the handwriting, and went into his room to open it. He was half in doubt as to whether Ross would accept his offer. It was a short letter, and in it Ross Gordon in manly terms accepted Danby's offer, and agreed to live at Branxton with him. ' If you find me a bore, or get tired of me, fire me out at once,' wrote Ross. ' I'm right-down glad,' said Danby. ' It's a good thing for him, and me, too. I shall perhaps sober him down, and he'll liven me up. We shall get on splendidly.'