Somebody brought a tray with steaming hot tea and crackers on it.
But Peggy could not eat. She felt faint and dreamy.
"Brace up!" urged Jimsy.
"I'll be all right in a minute. It's the strain of those last few
minutes. I never thought I'd win."
"And I never doubted it," declared Jess stoutly.
"I wonder where Roy is?" asked Peggy anxiously, as they entered a box in
the grandstand where they could be secluded from the shoving, curious,
staring crowd.
"Don't know; but he's all right, depend upon it," said Jimsy cheerfully;
"hello, what's that coming now?"
"It's a homing aeroplane."
Then, a minute later:
"It's Roy. Look at him come. I didn't think the _Red Dragon_ could go
as fast."
Roy it was, sure enough. He was coming at a pace that might have landed
him as winner of the race if he had not been delayed by his errand of
mercy.
Ten minutes later he had joined them. First he explained what had
happened to the judges of the course. Kelly, crest-fallen and
wretched-looking, thanked him half heartedly for what he had done and
said that he would care for Speedwell till he got better, which, by
the way, was a promise that he did not perform.
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