Are the handicaps out yet?"
"Yes, I saw the list just before I spoke to you. Semple and Mair are
scratch, with Todd at five yards. You start at twenty-five, and I get
off at the limit forty.'
"Oh!" said Robert, a note of surprise in his voice. "Walker has surely
forgotten who are the runners! Why, last year you won nearly all the
confined events, and you were second in the Red Hose with twenty-five
yards. He means you to romp home this year!" and there was heat in
Robert's voice as he finished.
"Well, I daresay it is a decent handicap," said Peter, "and even though
Semple is among the crowd, I should manage, I think, to pull it off with
anything like luck."
"I should think so," said Robert. "Walker has just made you a present of
the race. But I suppose it can't be helped, though it isn't fair.
Anyhow, I'll give you a chase for it."
"All right. Half an hour and we shall be on," and Peter went on round
the field, exchanging greetings with most of the villagers.
He was finishing his education at a Technical College in Edinburgh, and
at present was home on holidays. He was a well set up young man, and
though popular with most people, yet he brought with him an air of
another world among the villagers, which made them feel uncomfortable.
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