He took a despairing look through the thicket of human beings that made
a living forest all about, in a last endeavor to discover Alan Porter.
Not three paces away a uniquely familiar figure was threading in and out
the changing maze-it was Mike Gaynor.
Mortimer broke from his friend, and with quick steps reached the
trainer's side.
"I want to find Alan Porter," he said, in answer to Gaynor's surprised
salutation.
"He was in the paddock a bit ago," answered Mike; "he moight be there
still."
Almost involuntarily Mortimer, as he talked, had edged back toward his
friend of disconsolate raggedness.
"I wanted to go in there--I'd like to go now to find him, but they won't
let me through the gate."
"No more they will," answered Mike, with untruthful readiness, for all
at once it occurred to him that if Mortimer got to the paddock he might
run up against Allis and recognize her.
"De gent could buy a badge and get in," volunteered Old Bill.
The lid of Mike's right eye drooped like the slide of a lantern, as he
answered: "He couldn't get wan now--it's too late; just wait ye here,
sir, and if the b'y's there wit' the nags, I'll sind him out."
Old Bill made no comment upon Mike's diplomatic misstatement anent the
badge, for he had observed the wink, and held true to the masonry which
exists between race-course regulars.
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