CHAPTER NINE.
HOW MY MASTER AND I HAD QUITE AS MUCH EXCITEMENT IN ONE AFTERNOON AS WAS GOOD FOR US.
Just as they were turning to go, a sudden shout and rush of people arrested them.

The crowd on the course had been immense, and of the roughest and lowest description: sharpers, thieves, and roughs were there by the hundred, attracted from the neighbouring villages by the opportunity of plunder and riot which Gurley races always afforded.

As soon as the serious business of the racing was over, this low mob naturally sought excitement of their own making, and increasing in disorder and intemperance as the day wore on, had become beyond control just about the time when Mr Belsham, junior, took it into his muddled head to make a start in the direction of home.

The shout which kept him where he was, was occasioned by that spectacle dear to the eyes of all blackguards, a fight.

Round the two blood and dust-stained combatants, the mob surged and yelled.