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 (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 
 
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 Boc hnl if. Nw Yorit 14«M USA 
 (71« 4«2-0300-Phon. 
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THOROUGHBREDS 
 
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DEDICATED TO A 
 
 MY WIFE 
 
SI 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 He Mw AUli reach down for the 8l(u;k rein running 
 from her fkther's hand to DIablo's mouth . Frtmtupi^ 
 
 Ftaiiig 
 "The Run of Cnuader" .... **•!, 
 
 He iei»d the black horse by the crest Just as he was 
 overpowering the girl j^ 
 
 Holding the leather rein across the palm of his left 
 hand he started to saw It gently with the blade . 186 
 
 Do you think I can do It, Mike, among all those 
 Jookeys? j^ 
 
 The betting-ring _.. 
 
 Into the opening, glued to the rail, crept the chestnut 
 fbrm of Lauzanne g^g 
 
beetle in thrmJ^r^Z^^*^*"*^*''- The 
 
 T^' on opp^r-X'^i r f^ ." -^ •-«•* 
 Bm « th. Porter hoM^M. which w„ „ ffing. 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 wood Finn, wu divided allegiance. Mr^ Porter wia 
 poMeesed of an r.bhorrent detestation of hone racing* 
 also an assertive Christianity. The daughter, Allison, 
 had inherited the horse taint. The swinging gallop of 
 a striving horse was to her the obliteration of everything 
 but sunshine, and the smile of fields, and the blur of 
 •wift-gliding hedges, and the driving perfume of clover^ 
 Men winds that passed strong into spread nostrils. 
 For Alan Porter, the son, there were columns of 
 figures and musty-smelling bundles of tattered paper 
 money where he clerked in the bank. There had been 
 great unison in the Porter household over the placing of 
 Alan. In addition to horse lore, John Porter was a 
 fair judge of human i^ature, and, beyond doubt, there 
 was a streak of velvet in Alan which would have twisted 
 easily in the compressive grip of the race course. 
 
 The Porter family were not the only dwellers of 
 Brookfield who took part in racing. PhUip Crane, the 
 banker, wandering from the respectable highway of 
 finance, had allowed himself to become interested in race 
 horses. But this fact was all but unknown in Brook- 
 field, so the full resentment of the place was effusively 
 tendered to John Porter. 
 
 In his younger days some money had come to Philip 
 Crane. The gambler spirit, that was his of inheritance, 
 had an instinctive truth as allied to finance; but, un- 
 fortunately for Philip Crane, chance and a speculative 
 restlessness led him amongst men who commerced with 
 the sport of kings. With acute precipitancy he was 
 separated from the currency that had come to him. The 
 process was so rapid that his racing experience was of 
 little avail as an asset, so he committed the first great 
 wise act of his life— turned his back upon the race course 
 
 [«] 
 
CHAPTER ONE 
 
 ttd marched into finance, lo •tromrly. lo TMMl.fa»,^l, 
 tfuUt forty he wa. weal% and ^HSJ^^S^ll 
 
 hi^'^^u^^^.?^ deliberate reminiwence convinced 
 Win that he conld gratify the desire that had bewTSa 
 
 •toWe of useful horses; and, of far greater moment, se^ 
 
 JJi* cl«v« trainer, Dick LangdoiL " 
 
 miS^'l«.v^'t'^xr~'^«^ ^^^ *^" successful-he 
 
 S^ ^ ""^T ^* ^" characteristic of the man 
 ftat he had waited nearly tweniy years to resumenj^ 
 
 was possible for anything to be. There is a sayinTS 
 Engknd hat it takes two years of preparation^^fn^ 
 
 p£H^r?''"P\"^.^ *^ ^^'^ the hL ui^n X°ch 
 PWUp Crane, by instinctive adaptation, work^. 
 Jhute by chance Dick Langdon had come ito his 
 
 SSSrTri"??**'''^^"^^^"^^"^^- Itende?ryS2 
 ^r virtually owning every horse that raced in the 
 
 ^in?''^'- ^°«^di*i°">t^o or three ho^SnlS 
 Phdip Crane's own name. If there had beenWdi^ 
 tmctive project in the scheme of creation thTga^^Wck 
 l^!t\'' *h; 7orfd> it probably was ha Mht 
 
 wem that Langdon had come into his own-that he had 
 found his predestined master. 
 
 [81 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 ^'!?" ^?*? '^^ "*** **~ ■»«**'»1; "1 fwtaat biid 
 
 Hon« would bretk down, or get bettn bjiSddMjI 
 thwt WM tlwiji ioiMthiag. TlwfteiidTlliUndtidriia 
 l»MprogrMied em to an enciimbnnoo oB Bingwood. 
 
 4iJS^'^l!^^^J^[^1^^ ^'- i>ol«M'h.d intend- 
 fled the etmned relationdiip thtt existed between the 
 good people who frowned upon eU racing endetTor and 
 thoie who saw but Ifttle linfulneM iaTjohn Porter'a 
 way of life. *viwr» 
 
 wJ^^mLT" ^ debt.-eT«ything in BrooUeld 
 waa, except the town pnmp. Thg pastor waa a n*"Toaf. 
 *• J?*,.''??®'' "d i* <x»"wd to him that a concert 
 mi^t lighten the financial load The idea wa. ^ 
 
 conventional lines, local iroliuiteer talent, and a strona 
 appeal to the people of Biookfield for their patronace 
 
 The concert in the little old clap-boarded chnrdfita 
 •ides faded and blistered by many seasons of t^pert 
 
 and scorchmg SM, was an unqualified success np to the 
 fifth number. Nothing could have been more sucoees- 
 sSjiJ'uT^J^''^'^ »"**«' applause, than the fourth 
 Jflort, Anchored," as rendered by the village pride in 
 the matter of baritone singing; even De Besske never 
 
 SfSw S "'*'* «^.^' *^^P*»- Th«»PPlaMe 
 gradually feU awoy, and programmes were consulted 
 preparatory to a correct readiness for the fifth oiTerimr 
 The programinee confided that "TheDeath of Crusad«?» 
 by Miss Albs Porter, was the next item. 
 
 [4] 
 
CHAPTER ONE 
 
 of John Por£r'i.» """J*™*"* it • that ncui* gal 
 Tha Bdghbor annraxad in « craak m^i..^ 4 
 
 oonnt of the war " *^ • ^ * ^gh-Wutin' ac- 
 SKrf pl&^ «»' 'tood in th. «„ter if S 
 
 •WiUtttp,^.;"*^ '"^*" »»'* » h" mouth, 
 «•«» TOir Of osv»ADm 
 
 And th0 nm /or l%« 'jvwi^^w^' 
 
 motJSSi JKS^CiT '*'" -«"• •-« 
 

 THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 The hett racing dayt of the old hone were paet—ther^d 
 
 never been better nor braver— 
 Pi now once again he muet carry the $ilk—I wae needing 
 
 the help of Orueader. 
 Could he win at the weight, I whieperingtu aeked. a$ I 
 
 cinched up the eaddle girf tight; 
 He enuggled my hand a$ I gathered the rein, and I laughed 
 
 when they talked of defeat. 
 To the call of the bugle I swung to hie bach— Wee a roCh 
 .^ . »M the strength of hie quartere. 
 At eight of the people he arched hit lean neck, and thev 
 
 cheered for my King of all Huntere. 
 
 II 
 
 Ten hortee would etHve for the prize— a big field, and the 
 
 pace would be killing. ••" t 
 
 From the Wett came Bweet Silver, a gray, gOllant. and 
 
 fearless in iumpiAg. 
 A rakish old nag who walked over the sticks, twd been sent 
 
 jor the Cup from Kentucky; 
 On a bay. Little Jack, who was fast, they had put but a 
 
 hundred and thirty. 
 But I knew that North Star, a big brown— even the Black 
 
 was no gamer — 
 With a pull of ten pounds in tJie weight, was almost a match 
 
 for Cntsader. 
 We made a brave troop, ^mg-striding and strong, with tM 
 
 pick of cross-country riders. 
 At we filed past the Stand in stately parade, with its thou- 
 sands of eager admirers. 
 And down to the turn on the lower far side, where a red 
 
 flag %oas fiicMng the sunlight; 
 For twice we must circle the greenrswarded field, and finish 
 
 clote under the paddock. 
 
 in 
 
 Jutt once we lined up; then down cut the fiag, and "Cfor 
 
 hoarte^ooiced tfie Starter; 
 And the thunder of hooft, and the clanking of bitt, madt 
 
 music to me on Orutader. 
 Quick to the front, like a deer, tped a mare, a ohettnut. 
 
 making the running; 
 But I tteadied my mount, and took him far back— with hie 
 
 weight he would need all my nurting, 
 
 [61 
 
 I 
 
inpt^ 
 
 CHAPTER ONE 
 
 [7] 
 
 ■H 
 
TH0B0U6HBRED8 
 
 WUh •<^TM#^«HMH9, m p tv ad dM the Bay. HHM /tor 
 
 ***• 2li»'J!' /iM»jj«»-<oo «Aoft for Ma atrtde ami ML 
 
 with M$ head on my wither. '^ 
 
 ^^SSSUll^'''^ ** •flr*»,-&r(HvM to hU hneee In t»« 
 
 **• '5S Sff ?*'S^\*if '*'***» '**^^«* •*<»«^ «^ ' «^ 
 Mlf out 0/ tk« toddle. 
 
 Then ^joeedthe Brow»*» pmk; th^n we reedhed to hie 
 
 9^;neeikaMdneeh--Irodeathieehotader. 
 Aewepuhedpaatthepoetlhadwonh^ mnM«cr. 
 
 Peered, "Bravo, Cfrueaderr 
 
 YIJ 
 
 ahead, Howthep 
 
 Bui OrataderHOfipedehort; gave a etgh mtd felt dead; I 
 etood OR eione in the wtmUng. ^^* 
 
 Tlie girrs voice faltered and died away io a broken 
 whisper as she told of the death of Crusader. P<» a 
 foil minute there was a noiseless hush. The full 
 pathos of the gallant honeys striting had crept into 
 the hearte that were flesh and blood; and, carried away 
 by their feelings, the people had forgotten all about 
 their tortured convictions of the atti^n^ fiiM of inaV^t^g ^ 
 horse go faster than a sharp troi Gradually into their 
 awakening senses stole a conviction that somehow they 
 were countenancing the sin of racing. 
 
 Before the complete horror of tli& altuation had 
 
 [8] 
 
The Hun ofCnimder: 
 
< I 
 
 <-' 
 
 
 n 
 
CHAPTER ONE 
 
 I^theiS^t.S?^f^f-T'*'» « e^loeive clap, 
 plauder I^w^t ^^^^^^ ^"^ ^^ solitary ap- 
 
 what BoundS^e^w.?!,^^.^ ^S^^^^^^d the rattle ^ith 
 Bilence. ^ ^^ * Zl***^L*^^ **»«" '^m Bidden 
 
 P«H«ingly7^"S^t",Tth^^ *f 1~*^ ^- 
 tively ri8«i as a clSonnf,^ *°.'^^** had^flgura- 
 
 Beseitment haltZlLu ^f T^'^'^^T "^^^^^ 
 That CrusadeThad eSi,^ .K • *^' «°^ Christians, 
 minutes showed Si ?^ *^®'' sympathies for a tew 
 
 discussed for S time tTSjme'J^ *'°°'''*' ^^^^d be 
 Death of Crn«Ser^ ^ "^"^^ P™j«^ 'The 
 
 P'^ve^n're^l'^I^e^tr'^^ ^' - - 
 Mtion of the sacS'fr^ bj exuberant condem- 
 
 aark Wotch In the nwht t^nrtr? ^««««t 
 «»» "light my di»Si™T^ *^P '**^' "* pTMently 
 
 <«t on the gra« toW" 1K^ "^' "^ "^ 
 tor imd her toJh« aI^ '^^ '^•"" *«'« AUl. P„r. 
 
 On. «f the ma, o^rfUrf .ith hi. exceeding ,„th. 
 
THOlaHTOHBREDS 
 
 •ering the girl, ^ve ezpnadon to a moit unchrirtiMi 
 
 S.hS'?*''' «»"»« of harsh instinct, and 4 ftS 
 flushed hot with resentment He half turned, bittw 
 reproach rising to his lips. How could men l« 'so brj! 
 ^l ^owcou^dtheybesobase? To speak ill of his 
 3ln^ ''^^^". ^^ *^« P^'^'*' ^'^^te-t little 
 
 js^Hi^but^g^r-*" '"^^ ""' *- *^ ^ -y- 
 
 .n^,^® iTif jl^eww something that checked his futUe 
 ^em stretched out an arm, and he heard ti^ vilifler's 
 
 ttat had beat the tettoo of appro >ation clutchedhim hj 
 ^J^^' The boy'wonldhaye rushed to the k^ 
 KS^de^^'""'^*^^^^^^-^^^ 
 
 In Jfr.^^ "^^^"^ ''*™ *^*^ '^P «~*esqnely, weay- 
 
 ^^. ^IS""** * ^'~ ^ ^~^ «' exp^tiinwd 
 itroiig words of anger; but the new serious business 
 that luid materialized had most effectually putTZ 
 
 ^^ZeT"*"^^""**^^^^^— ^' 
 «^3*? ?f»«» J^ortimei^-he's in our bank," Alan oon. 
 
 w i?"^**f*^^"^«^^»^«y- ''He's aU right 
 -Jie's strong as a horse; and I bet Orandani ha^ a 
 
 faukm his nedc to.mom>w where George pinched him.- 
 
 ^What was It about P* the girl asked: 
 
 T,n«2? J' iT^ ''*'^. **^^* P~Pl« ^ho own race 
 J°[^^^*^ % M»«wered, evasively. «If • Crandal, the 
 
 [10] 
 
 M 
 
John Porte^"^!ri°°~." •" ^•ri'* 
 
 0' «och qneaiioiu pemutted the atking 
 
 "C« •Jif"'!?'.?'' "^""•'" «Plied Porter 
 
 tacki4 her. " '" ««^ «"'»«'' *• »i". and I'm 
 
 »^ J^^l'^,^^'^^- "To ten ^„ 
 W that U^, w^^^'CLT^' J 
 
 the trick." ' ''*''' * ^ Lanamne that Tl turn 
 
 [11] 
 
;* 
 
 THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 n 
 
 Jl^t* •^^''' ^ 'wnwked, Uoonicdly; «I niiirt 
 go tnd hav » bit on the maie, and then tiito a look it 
 her before she goes out." "«« • ioo« at 
 
 ^•« *?'*'*^f ""?* ^'''^ *^* ■*«!>■ hw companion leaned 
 o7!S.\;2r tfetf ^ "'^ ^^ »-^ ^-P^« * «>-' 
 
 ^!^y;^^*^ *^-'wed man .tood bettde him. 
 
 "Whafg her price r 
 "Two to one." 
 "WhafB second favprite?*' 
 'Xanaume— five to two." 
 
 "Langden thinb if b aU o»er bar the ahoutiiw be 
 
 a good judge," objected Danby: "and be-a eot . mini k!,. 
 -.p. loo, HcKay," be ^ided/ dowly fo^SL' ST^d 
 «!««. » tbe jod«7 board oppodti tbe sS 
 
 wdSsf :? r,^" ""<• •««••" -'■«' ^. ««-« 
 
 1 "^' if' ?™^ hard to find a straigbt-leJKed dmr » 
 l.«^ Danby. "And »hen John Port£ H^^ 
 
 iJr4e":r^.>- =-'"^'"»wn:s 
 
 As Lewis pushed his way into the shovinff seething 
 
 stnick in the chest by something which apparently S 
 the momentum of an eight-inch sheU; biS^Ha; oidy 
 Johr. Porter, who, in breakmg through the cmte^cS 
 
 [12] 
 
 \-. 
 
CHAPTER TWO 
 
 t^JL'^^^'t^ *«- .ith ™« .peea 
 Bob MDothered the ezpletire tUt hwl rfMn to hi. n« 
 
 "^ tre tlwy dom' to the nuwre in the riSr ^ 
 Kr^.J?^ "^•"d hi. ««aitntrStching hi. 
 
 tf I didn't knour my boy pretty weuTand LucretiijbitS; 
 I'd have weakened a bit Bit die S^'t kS^^S 
 
 boo^e^*Sl ^7*^ "^?« *^ ^ "*«>d i« '^'^t of a 
 Doojcmaker with a face cast very much on the Iium nf 
 
 Fauat pretended not to hear him. 
 Sure thingP whispered Lewi, to hinuelf T».«» 
 
 The Cherub smiled blandly. **Not takin' *«*»» i. 
 .Tjf hotl'^^ ^ '?^ ^ the^lL^mZir S 
 ^^8 L cretiar persisted Lewis. 
 
 ^treTfinl*'^ T^' '^^^ ^ h«^d solemnly, 
 ^^erel five to twc^how much-- but Lewis wi 
 
 He burrowed like a mole most industriously, regard- 
 
THOBOUOHBBEDS 
 
 ^ot iMople'. *««. thdr ribt, thdr dwk look.. «^ 
 
 triS^!^ ^^^ '^'^ "^ ^ ^^ l«»rM to kiM 
 ;^d you get it onr queried the letter 
 
 «ii«# *i.-* *«n«aon aie in the same boet" 
 iJttt that won't win the race » wmm«^^\^ . 
 «Lanaanne ia a ii..i'4«! j « ' wmonatrated Danbr. 
 
 to goint Mid lK,«d?^ frMn Pwter, I'd ^it 
 Uwis waa gone about four minutei 
 
 >«^; I'm f«U.i™g^^»'^ '^^ •«» •«««« 
 
 meet him. ' ' ""^ '"""^ • &» pwei to 
 
 "Are tW h.„,™ru.' W. !»,« i„ the riBg; .i,^. 
 
t ij 
 
 CHAPTER TWO 
 
 "And what?" "*" •» "witoteA 
 
 InS^^™"""*' -W Port«, with „>^ 
 
 g^5»d »»»7 ,f th«a Ure tW, •dd^'^g^, 
 
 to Win; „d .helITf.1^0^*:^ ?"°' ]!*:• «»'■« 
 bwgonp. Gnmfa.fMi °Ir j5 ^^^"»»*^■•'">^ll- 
 ""•tuck to him?" "*" ""^ "tlMiniMui tli»t 
 
 ^f » not Onnt at all *» i>«^v.j *v. 
 l»lm o< U. hand. to™S'„ J?""? P"""' ""••>»« the 
 
 •LMigdon make, miatake. too" 
 
 rui 
 
THOROUOHBREDS 
 
 *V» cMhM in often when he^i credited with « ndi- 
 take,*' retorted the other. 
 -Well, I'ye pUjred the Uttle nii«," ueerted Porter. 
 'Ifnoh, lirr aeked Dixon, eoUcitondy. 
 
 "AU I CM itend-Mid. little more," he added, fUter- 
 togly; "I needed a win, • good win," he offered, in an 
 explanatory voiee. "I want to clear Bhigwood-4rat 
 nerer mind about that, Andy. The mare'i weU— ain't 
 ^f There can't be anything doing with Mclfay- 
 we>e only put him up a few timet, but he eeema aU 
 right. 
 
 *! think well win," aniwered the Trainer; «I didn't 
 get anythin' itraight—iust that there seemed a deuced 
 9tTong tip on Lau2aiine, considerin' that he'd nerer 
 ahowed My form to warrant it. Yonder he i», wr. in 
 number fire— go and haye a look at him." 
 
 «..t'/'*^j!?*'«'"*"'^ **'~" *^ P*^do«k a hone, 
 man touched the fingen of his right hand to his cap. 
 There was a half-concealed look of interest in the man's 
 ^fJSf *.^®'*®' ^°^^ ^^ experience meant somethimr. 
 I. ???I:^^ yon know, Mike?" he asked, carelesslyrw^ 
 half halting in his stride. ^ 
 
 "Nottin' sir; but dere's somebody in de know dia 
 
 tnp. Yer mare's a good little filly, w'en she's right, but 
 ye'r up against it." ^^ 
 
 Porter stopped and looked at the horseman. He waa 
 Mike Gaynor, a trainer, and more than once Porter 
 had stood his friend. Mike always had on hand three 
 m four horses of inconceivable slowness, and uncertain- 
 1^^ ^rl'f"' ~?^«ently there was an eyer-re- 
 cumng inability to pay feed biUs, so he had every chance 
 to know just who was his friend and who was not. for 
 ne tnea them most sorely. 
 
 [16] 
 
 
CHAPTER TWO 
 
 " UlJ *»/ »«»^-ftor. Hi waited, f^^SS 
 ^•jW^ loiMthing to teU. -««•■«» «« 
 
 IKASST ^^^ "" ^"^' "^'^ *^' •^'^ 
 A^J^J" 'f^ 0° flight car.; now he*. . .w™ 
 
 l-Migdon if denwu inyf ing doin* ; an' Dick laya to bm 
 ••Ti he, pjttin' bof f umbeup" Jand MUw^dd Ch 
 h^d. ont hoJontaUy with the tbumbi .f^LltirS 
 to Ul«.trate thi. f^ of oath-« 'there's nott JIS^ 
 Ji«^n»T ^- ^* ^> **i»'^ 0' that, rir, an' mi 
 ^t^j the biggeet tip that always fdls do\m, Gaynor • 
 
 to do up that field of stiffs. I ain't no rail bird, but I Ve 
 hedme^ on her. Bnt I ain't doin' no stiit abou? 
 horws. Mister Porter; I'm talkin' about men. Th'W, 
 
 b«foi« tfca nil™- J T-'T^ ""in*n . 1 am't never been 
 before the Stewards yet for crooked work, or crooked 
 Wk; but therms a boy ridin' in dat bnnch to^^^v^ 
 
 knowin that it would break me. That was at Con^ 
 Island, two years ago." ^^ 
 
 [17] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 M 
 
 "I don't remember nofin' but that T *«♦ u • xuf 
 
 «>rfc««u '»-'— nnjc i m one of th' guig.'* 
 
 How are you, Mr. Porter?*' 
 
 Johl" ""^ ^'"^«'' ^ "^ ~".'' »pU«d Hon«t 
 
 •J") '" ??^. ^'°» *°»'f Porter gestiT kv the >k«» 
 •nd drew him half within the ataU %h tLIT^ 
 
 better hA~^ klf Jr J?^°* '^^'^^^ ^^^^le. 'Tou'd 
 ^n^Ifo ^°* ^'- ^^'*«''" ^""^e added, 
 ^^^^^ucretia carries my money," answered Porter in 
 
 *liP ?? " '**P *^^«^ «»e tS^ men. *^ *^"' 
 
 well, we both can't win " h« Mi/i k-i* • i ., 
 
 ^2^' *^ theTi.xri.'r^'-^j 
 
 [18] 
 
CHAPTER TWO 
 
 ^^ «>, cned Langdon in a sneering, defiant 
 •Tw* "? ^" "^^ I-'oetia'. owner, qnietly 
 
 «i|fe:^a-Se^'et:.'^«-^'«-' 
 
 1 Old, and I refuaed it " 
 
 l^h, if yon want to crawl—" 
 
 if Jo« beat my nS«, nf mC ^ ^^f *°* * ^ 
 "nomtrated Crane. *^ '^ "• P«rt«." 
 
 •M ^ «v'lJil^ ?" ** ""•" """"^ John Porter • 
 
 L A tf J 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 ^v^ J?^? ^^^^ ^ nervous apprehension: his Upf 
 twitted, his fluiks trembled like wind-distressed watw" 
 and the white of his eye was showing ominously. 
 
 Langdon cast a quick, significant, cautioning look at 
 Crane as Porter spoke of the horse; then he said, 
 
 .32^'®/ t"^""^' an' if you're right you get all the 
 stuff an no horse. 
 
 rifi*"^ ^ ^^ bargain whatever happens," Porter 
 
 At that instant the bugle sounded. 
 
 u,u^ ""P? Westley," Langdon said to his jockey, 
 "they're going out.** » * ^* 
 
 As he lifted the boy to the saddle, the Trainer whis- 
 pered a few concise directions. 
 
 "Hold him steady at the post,** he muttered; «I*ve got 
 Jum a bit on edge to-day. Get oflf in front and stey 
 there ; he s f eelin* good enough to leave the earth. This*U 
 
 «aT**!',°«* '^^^}^ "*' ^ymAr^^ to you if you win.*' 
 AU out I aU out 1** caUed the voice of the paddock offi- 
 
 t'S^re ^Tu^' °^''' *''°' "^^'"^ ^^ y^"* ^^««yl 
 The ten starters passed in stately procession from the 
 green-swarded paddock through an open gate to the 
 soft haijowed earth, gleaming pink-brown in the sun- 
 light, of the course. How consciously beautiful the 
 thoroughbreds looked I The long sweeping step; the 
 supple bend of tiie fetlock as it gave Hke a wire ^rtog 
 under the weight of great broad quarters, all sLwv 
 strength and tapered perfection; the stretch of gentii 
 curved neck, sweet-lined as a greyhound*s, bearing a 
 kan bony head, set with two great jewels of ey^in 
 which were honesty and courage, and eager longing for 
 the battle of strength and stamina, and BtoS of 
 
 [«0] 
 
CHAPTER TWO 
 
 hetrt; even the nostrils, with a red transparency as of 
 S^ "P'^^^i^drank eagerly the wamTsn^er aL 
 
 ^TasSLll^d^ ^'""^ '' ^^^-^^"^ ^^0- -^ 
 Snrely the spectacle of these lovely creatures, near- 
 ert to man in their thoughts and their desires, liid su- 
 perior m their honesty and truth, was a sight to dadden 
 tte hearts of kings. Of a great certainty it was a sjK^rt 
 into the hands of highway robbers 
 
 Some such bitter thought as this came into the heart 
 of John Porter as he stood and watehed his beautiful 
 
 the others He loved good horses with all the fervor of 
 his ovmsiTong, simple, honest nature. Their walk was 
 a delight to him, their roaring gallop a frenzyTeaL^ 
 B^tion. There was nothing in the world^lovX 
 weU Ye^hiB daughter Allis. But just now he wm 
 thinking of Lucretia-Lucretia and her rivd Z 
 golden-haired chestnut, Lauzanne. ' 
 
 nJaJT!^^^^T^\^l^ "^^^^^ «»*« ^«»ding from the 
 paddock to the Grand Stand. The eate kee^r r^n^S^ 
 
 p^^ntly te him and said: '<Hope ^^utJT h^ W^ 
 
 new, and I haven't got over my likin' for an honest horse 
 and an honest owner yet.'' 
 
 in^r ""^ T^"^ insinuation of suspicion, albeit a 
 ^dty one, m the man's voice. The verf air Was^of 
 
 Bwak^f ho^^^f'Tp' '^ ^^y «^^^^ *h« official 
 SfiSr^ic^Tl'* ^' '^"'^^^^ ^^^ *^** •^o^ 
 
 lence, to take a decidmg look at the mare and the Chert- 
 
 C«l] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 nnt M they drded past the stand in the little view- 
 promenade which preceded the race. 
 
 His trained eye told him that Lanzanne was a grand- 
 looking horse; big, well-developed shoulders reached 
 back toward the huge quarters until the small racing 
 saddle ahnost covered the short back. What great pronJ 
 ise of weight-carrying was there I 
 
 He laughed a little at the irrelevance of this thought, 
 for It was not a question of weight-carrying at aU; two- 
 year-olds at a hundred pounds in a sprint of only five 
 furlongs. Speed was the great f jictor to be considered 
 and surely Lucretia outclassed the other in that way 
 The long, well-ribbed up body, with just a trace of 
 gauntness in the flank; the slim neck; the deep chest: 
 the broad, flat canon bones, and the well-let-down hocks 
 pving a length of thigh like a greyhound's— and the 
 thighs themselves, as John Porter looked at them under 
 the tucked-up belly of the gentle mare, big, and strong, 
 and full of a driving force that should make the others 
 break a record to beat her. 
 
 i'lom the inquisition of the owner's study Lucretia 
 stood forth triumphant; neither the Chestnut nor any- 
 thmg else in the race could beat her. And Jockey McKay 
 —Porter raised his eyes involuntarily, seeldng for some 
 occult refutation of the impUed dishonesty of the boy 
 he had trusted. He found himself gazing straight into 
 the smaJ: shifty eyes of Lucretia's midget rider, and such 
 a hungry, wolfish look of mingled cunning and cu- 
 pidity was there that Porter almost shuddered. The 
 insinuations of Mike Gaynor, and the other things that 
 
 pointed at a job being on, hadn't half the force of the dis- 
 honesty that was so apparent in the teU-tale look of the 
 morally irresponsible boy in whose hands he waa so com- 
 
CHAPTER TWO 
 
 pletely helplew. All the careful preparation of the 
 
 mare the economical saving, even to the self-denial of 
 
 ahnost necessa^ things to the end that he might have 
 
 fands to back her heavily when she ran; and the high 
 
 ^y.f^'f;^''^.^ '^^"'^ ^^ ^« q«e«tion, aSd 
 
 tiJi nf ^^^'l^'^i^' ^^^'^ "^^ brought an exdam^ 
 
 S^H-^ f r*!"*?.'^"* ^' phlegmatic trainer; the 
 
 ^^Srfhl '^l'' ^^^'»^«^t« ^ the expectediriinph 
 
 -allthese contangencies were as less than nothing shoiSd 
 
 the boy, with the look of a demon in his eyi^ot iWe 
 
 straight and honest. 
 
 set^M?K?v°l" "1''^ ^^ ^**' ^ *«^ ^^ Stewards to 
 Si~ 5 ^ t^' ^^* ''^** P'~>' *»»d he to offer that 
 ^M^!^"?^?'^"^^ The boy's good name wo^d 
 
 ttat he did not tnist him; and perhaps the lad was inno- 
 
 ^ flx^'*f£^^*if ''''^ '^^^y *^ "'y out that a jockey 
 was flxed-that there was somettiing wrong, when their 
 oim judgment was at fault and they lost 
 Sudd^y Porter ^ve a cry of astonishment. -My 
 
 God! he muttered, '*the boy has got spnrs on. Tha«^ 
 ■et the mare clean crazy." A"»m 
 
 vnf ?«IT^ **" ^^**"' T^^ ""^ ■* ^ ell^^^ "Why did 
 yon let McKay put on the steebP' 
 
 *^ told him not to.** 
 
 *^e*B got them on.** 
 
 n^lS"^'^ *?* ll T^ *** " "^^ *^« Trainer dashed 
 ^e steps to fte Stewards. In two minutes he w- 
 turned, a heavy frown on his face. 
 
 '^ellP* queried Porter. 
 
 "Tve ma^e a mess of it," answered Dixon, sullenly 
 
 n*TO got the wrong end of the stiek." 
 
 CM] 
 
t» 
 
 THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 un^y ""1 *"!! ?*^^ ■*^^ *^* i' *«^'»" would 
 
 ^^ fh^^*^ theur horses, an' keep out of the betS 
 nng, that the pubho'd get a better run for their money. 
 
 I m Bonj, Andy," said Porter, consolingly. 
 
 It 8 prot^ tongh on me, but it's worse on you. sir 
 
 ^i ^"^ **' • j°*» ^'^^ I'Jl *at9 me oath." 
 'We've got to stand to it, Andy." 
 
 'That we hare; weVe just got to take our medicine 
 i^lciliffS'"* -^r" " ^ -"^ke a break an> ^ 
 
 JJp^J *^"®.ri^*'^''«°^'^yle^t- K he jabs 
 the httle mare with them steels sheTl go clean crazy." 
 
 W /wf? '*^*'^^°ty- I ^uess IVe saved and petted 
 her a bit too much. But she never needed spur*-!^^ 
 J^ her heart trying without them." 
 
 nJ^L^T.^''^^ ^"""^ *« *^« ^«°t back to the 
 paddock, «if the boy stops the mare he*U never «et an! 
 
 ^''dl^'/i'*^"*^^'?^*- It'B this sort of Si^*tSt 
 Whj ije ^ole business of racing. Here's a stable thafs 
 straight from owner to exercise boy, and now likely to 
 ttrow down the public and stand a chance of g^ttii^ 
 roled off ourselves because of a gamblinj Httie tlSf 
 
 fa^^f^'^*T'i^~°^.^'*P'^ But after S^U 
 isn t his fa^t. I know who ought to be warned off if 
 
 this race IS fixed ; but they won't be able to touch a L2 
 of him; he's too damn sUck. But his timell come-God 
 fa^^ how many men heTl break in the meantime, 
 
 stand, the latter leaned over in his chair, touched him 
 on the aim and said, "Come in and take a seat" 
 
t r 
 
 CHAPTER TWO 
 
 *I CMi V repUed the other man, "mv damrhf^ «- «« 
 there somewhere/' ™y <»ugjiter w np 
 
 "I'^« played the mare," declared Danby,ghowinirPor 
 ter a memo written in a smaU betting bcJk ^ ^'''" 
 
 The ktter started and a frownS^sTl^ bn^^ 
 
 i'lve to two never is/' laughed his friend. «Riif 
 rf^'s a right smart iUly; she loSs much tS^ onhe 
 lot DWs got her as fit as a fiddle string Whi 
 you're done with that man you might tum^ oT^ 
 
 «u'Z?l°^'^''' S^ ^^^'^^^'^ «"<i I*orter, "and IVe 
 played her myself-a stiflBsh bit, too; but aU the saml 
 
 your pocket. Iinustgo,"he added, his eye catSLtS 
 i^tter^of a race card which .as ;avingTl^r^ 
 
 'here's a seat. Dad," cried the girl, cheeringly liftimr 
 her coat from a chair she had ke|t for h^T^Sh^r 
 For an instant John Porter forcot aJlThnnf? « 
 
 f^<^J:'j'r"- ^^^^^-"11:1:^^ 
 
 faculty of always making him fonret hia frf-Jf. u i? I 
 
 IKW. Stactly speaking, she wasn't beaiitiftil_a„v%t!^ 
 woBld h.Te p««d that opinion if radtohlST 
 
 he SS ^^fPT* "^W.'"" «"?' into his nSIS 
 
 ^es'iLt't*;T:s^t:-sse?:.''' r^ 
 
 ;™^n',T*^"'^^^°^*y*°d sympathy. She was 
 
 Tfi^er'TWwJ^"* "" one had^^r lik'ened her ^ 
 • nower. There was apparent sinewy strength and viiror 
 
 [86] * 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 te tht imaU fom. Her UIb, daimed I7 tht open tir^ 
 had iti reward— the saddle is no cradle for weakliogi. 
 Bred in an atnwephere of racing, and mrronnded as she 
 had always been by thoroughbreds, AiUs had grown up 
 fall of admiration for their hooefty, and oooragsb and 
 iweet temper. 
 
 [iSj 
 
 8 
 
m 
 
 effect. If a man couldn't race •quarely— ran toiS 
 erery tune-he had better quit the game, Portei^ had al- 
 wayiawerted. He raced honestly and bet openly, with- 
 out cant and without hypocrifly; just as ViSancier 
 might have traded in stocks in Wall Street; or a farmer 
 might plant his crops and trust to the future and fair 
 weather to yield him a harvest in return. 
 So much of the racing life was on honor-so much of 
 
 i?ll!5^/"* *^' ^* ^"^ ^ ^ °P«^' '^here purple- 
 domed Adds gave rest, and health, and strengtoXt 
 the home atmosphere was impregnated with mSl truth 
 
 S^e^pm^t'^^''^'"'^'^ 
 
 Every twist of her sinewy figure bore mute testimony 
 to this; evwy glance from her wondrous eyes was an 
 doquwit substantiating argument in favor of the life 
 ihe affected. 
 
 John Porter looked down at the small, rather dark, 
 ^ptumed f ace^d a half -amused smile of content came 
 ^ ii'^._,^^y*''*'*®^'«^**»?"J»e«»ked. "Isn't 
 AeaWuty? Hasn't Dixon got her in the pink of con- 
 
 /^ saw nothing else, father." She bedtoned to him 
 w^ her eyes tipped her head forward, and whispered: 
 ^ose people behind us have badced LwiiannT I 
 think they're racing folks." mum 
 
 ivn 
 

 THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 The father Bmiled u an ancultnred woman's Toiot 
 from one row back janed on hit ear. Allis noticed the 
 anule and its provocation, and said, ipeakinff haatily. 
 '*I don't mean like you, father—" 
 
 'liike us/* he corrected 
 
 **WeU, perfaapa; they're mora like betting or train- 
 ing people, though." She put her hand on hia arm 
 wamingly aa a high-pitched falwtto penetrated the 
 drone of their half-whispered words, saying, *1 teU you 
 Dick knows aU about this Porter mare, Lucretia." 
 
 "But I like her,** a baritone voice answered, "She 
 looks a rattlin* filly.** 
 
 **YouTl dine off zwieback and by your lonely, Ned. 
 if you play horses on their looks—** 
 "Or women either,** the baritone cut in 
 
 *i. T"*"^?* * x"' ^''*^* ^^- ^^t I>ick told me to go 
 the limit on Lauzanne, and to leave the fiUy alone." 
 
 On form Lucretia ought to win," the man persisted : 
 an there*s never anythin' doin' with Porter." 
 'Terhaps not ;" the unpleasant feminine voice sneered 
 mockmgly, with an ill-conditioned drawl on the "per- 
 haps,-* **but he doe8n*t ride his own mare, does he?*' 
 
 John Porter started. Again that distasteful expres- 
 sion fraught with distrust and insinuation. There was 
 a strong evil odor of stephanotis wafted to his nostrils 
 as the ^aker shook her fan with impatient decision. 
 The perfume affected him disagreeably; it was like the 
 exhalation of some noisome drug; quite in keeping with 
 the covert insinuation of her words that Dick as she 
 caUed him— it must be Dick Langdon, the triiner of 
 Lauzanne, Porter mused— had given her advice based 
 on a knowledge quite irrespective of the galloping powers 
 of the two horses. 
 
CHAPTER rHREB 
 
 'Did yon hear that, fatWr Allia whifDtnd. 
 He nodded hii head. '^ 
 
 "What doee it all mean r 
 
 ^t means, ^rl," he uid, .lowly, «that all the trouble 
 and paina I have taken over Lucretia since she wu 
 foaled, two years ago, and her dam, the old mare. Maid 
 of Home, died, even to raising the little filly on a bottle, 
 and watching over her temper that it should not be 
 rumed by brutal savages of stable-boys, whose one idea 
 of a horse is that he must be clubbed into submission— 
 that all the care taken in her training, and the money 
 •pent for her keep and entries goes for nothing in this 
 race, if Jockey McKay io the rascal I fear he is." 
 
 **You think some one has got at him. Dad?** 
 
 Her father nodded again. 
 
 "I wish I*d been a boy, so that I could have ridden 
 Lucretia for you to-day,** Allis exclaimed with sudden 
 emphasis. 
 
 '11 *^^* ^"^ y°^ ^'^' ^**^® Woman; you*d have 
 ndden straight anyway— there never was a crooked one 
 of our blood.** 
 
 ^ don*t see why a jockey or anybody else should be 
 dishonest— I*m sure it must take too much valuable time 
 to cover up crooked ways.** 
 
 ^i.'T?i! y°^*^ ^^® °**^® * 8^* jock. Little Woman,** 
 the father went on, musingly, as he watched the horses 
 liniiy up for the start. "Men think if a boy is a feather- 
 weight, and tough as a Bowery loafer, he*s sure to be 
 a success in the saddle. That*s what beats me-« boy 
 of that sort wouldn't be trusted to carry a letter with 
 t^ dollars m it, and on the back of a good horse he*8 
 piloting thousands. Unless a jockey has the instincts of 
 a gentleman, naturaUy, he*s almost certain to turn out 
 
 [29] 
 
/- I 
 
 THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 J^blM^piMd looiitr or lattr, Md throw down hii ownir. 
 aeTl taare mora temptotioiit in « week to Tblate hia 
 trajt than a bank dark would ha?e in a lifetime." 
 
 ^ that why you put Alan in the bank, fatherr 
 
 Porter went on at though he had not heard the daudi- 
 tert query. «To make a flntKslan Jock, a boy mwt 
 hareMnree of iteel, the courage of a bulldog, the aelf- 
 contarollwg honesty of a monk. You're got aU theie 
 nght enough, Allii, only you're a girl, don't you lee— 
 juat a good Uttle woman," and he patted her hand 
 affectionately. 
 
 "They're olf I" exclaimed the baritone. 
 
 I^t thifl trip," objjyjted the falsetto. 
 
 The nmr»-the young fiend I" fiercely ejaculated 
 John Porter. 
 
 *What ia it, fatherr 
 
 •T^ boy on Lucretia ia Jabbing her with the ipura. 
 and she's cutting up." ^ ^ 
 
 ^r'Zf fi, -^v'""*/* '?" ■*^'" '^^ ^^* ^ ^tone. 
 I don t think mud '>f your Leuianne, he's like a craay 
 
 AUis heard the wionan's shrill roioe, smothered to a 
 hissing whisper, answer something. Two distinct words. 
 *^ hop "earned to her ears. There waa a long-dnum- 
 out baritone, Oh-hl" then, in the same key, «I knew 
 
 . lAuaanne waa a sluggard, and couldn't make out why he 
 waa so frisky to^y." ^ 
 
 •Dick's got it down fine"— Just audibly from the 
 womimj "Lauxanne'U try right enough this tiuK out" 
 
 T™ mare's actin' as if she'd a cup of tea, too," mut- 
 tered her companion, Ned. 
 
 ITiis elicited a dry dmckle from the woman. 
 
 Allis pinched her father's arm again, and looked xa 
 
CHAPTER THREE 
 
 ^^nSSL^'^'^l' •■ ftom the mt behind theoi 
 thj^uaWed oojTemtion c«ne to their em. pJSS 
 SS^nJ^ i>eid imdewtMidiiigly, wd frowned. SI 
 
 J^ J** ^'^ *»i« J>e«» with oonflnnirtion of hie rot! 
 
 "I don't like it," he muttered to Allii. 'They're h»A 
 fo«rbreak.^^.nd the m«e'. been left e^^h^V^ 
 
 I^;? *^J :?r* "^J' ^ *^«' -'^ •* the poet But 
 IS^S ^'^ " »~^« ^« ««e right there, uTwey he'. 
 
 ■UrUed the girl with the fierce empbaMs he turew into 
 aS^L •?' f^~^ *" ^' '~* ^ excitement. 
 
 tTm,^ ^ V'u *' *^'' ^°» "«»* *o -^^t, totiL 
 topmoet row of the huge stand 
 
 . J^i!!*°^ ^ f 7^*^ • ^y^ 1«^ of three length. 
 SfwIJn^h " t'* «J-ol«tely-ab«,lutely ij^' 
 bgr whipped her about juet a. the flag feU.'' There wu 
 
 ui^^""^ '' ^^ ^^ - porSi" oi:; 
 
 .nZf ' '^'® **",* *"' **' ^**'« Woman," he continued- 
 Mdthere wa. almoet a tone of reUef of re.K^' 
 
 &^Z'r'^ ""'^^^^'^ ^' *^« diBa.ter.^M to 
 have steadied his nerves again. Allis attempted to spwk 
 but her ow voice was hushed to a whisper by tW 
 ^^/nes that were aU about them. ^ ^ 
 "Didn't I tell you—LauKume win. in a w«lVf» ♦!,- 
 
 SlSH^t."^" "" " '^''^' «*^^ "' ^^^- - 
 
 'Ton called the turn." Even Ned's baritone had 
 
 [81] 
 
mmmm 
 
 THOROUOHBREOS 
 
 riitn to a fdie-keTed tenor; he wm ttanding on hit 
 toes, peering oVer the hetdt of taUer men in fwnt ^ 
 Allis bnuhed from her eyes the tears of sympathy 
 that had welled into them, and, raising her yoioe, spoke 
 bravely, clinging to the vain hope: "Lucretia is game, 
 father— she may win yet— the race is not lost till they're 
 past the post" ' 
 
 Then her voice died away, and she kept pleading over 
 and over in her heart, "Come on Lucretia— come on, 
 brave little mare I Is she gaining, father— can you see T 
 
 "SheOl never make it up,'' Porter replied, as he 
 watched the jumble of red, and yeUow, and black pat- 
 terned into a trailing banner, which waved, and vi- 
 brated, and streams^ in the glittering sunlight, a fur- 
 long down the Course— and the tail of it was his own 
 blue, white-starred jacket. In front, still a good two 
 lengths in front, gleamed scarlet, like an evil ^, the 
 all red of Lausanne's colors. 
 
 ''Where is Lucretia, father?" the girl asked again, 
 stretching her slight figure up in a vain endeavor to see 
 over the shoulders of those in front. 
 
 "She had an opening there," Porter replied, speaking 
 his thoughts more than answering the girl, ''but the boy 
 pulled her ijjto the bunch on the rail. He doesn't want 
 to get throu^. Oh I" he ezdaimed, as though some one 
 had struck him in the face. 
 
 "Whafs wrong? H>«s she— " 
 
 "If s the Minstrel. His boy threw him fair across 
 Lucretia, and knocked her to her knees." He lowered 
 his glasses listlessly. "If s Lausanne all the way, if he 
 lasts out. He's dying fast though, and Westle/s gone 
 to the whip." 
 
 He was looking through his glasses again. Though 
 
 CM] 
 
CHAPTER THREE 
 
 hitt^Wir^ blood was up. "If Laia«me win. it 
 wm be Westley's ndmg; the Hanover oolt. The SSoh- 
 
 m^i. at his quarter. He>U beat him out/for thefiS- 
 ©▼«■ are all game.'' ^^ 
 
 an^t Si^r* Lauzamier Even the exotic steph- 
 ^ faded to obUterate the harsh, mercenary in- 
 tenwty of the feminine ciy at the back of AUis. 
 ^es beatr a deep discordant Toice groaned. «I 
 I^J-a a quitter,^' the woman's o,^, wal 
 
 vn^^ ^ **' f '**"'*' "'""y^ ^y 8*«>ng compellimr 
 Z,^ **^* P~P*f ''^^'^d i^ excitement, tipto^la^ 
 
 ^(A by inch the brave son of Hanover was creepSg^p 
 J^like a drunken man in the hour of hSdLtaess 
 tense form of his nder-^i camel's hump~a part of S« 
 
 Sir^SSTifT"?!?'^^ ^^ weSThS^^'^ 
 "Mwerly ngidity of Jus body and le«; hit the arm. 
 
 "»th. d««Ud«. of tte g«;t jookqTtCm .S 
 
 Mting hun, tin the very lurche. of Laoanne ianri^ 
 h^ toward the goal. And at hi. girth StT^ 
 
 •tort hemt and eager re«,hing head; ,tr^ ererr 
 ^, jjnd »^, and ner™ ; in hi. eye theZlfdS? 
 
 0«h«. ord^ed bin. to L complet^nTl^lt 
 «l»uiywithU«anne. At the pinch hi. judgmelt had 
 
 1 88 J 
 
TH0B0U6HBBEDS 
 
 flowii— Im was beoqme an instrument of tortnn; wit^ 
 ▼hip and apnr he was throwing away ihe race. "Ettk^ 
 
 time he raised his arm and lashed, his poor foolish body 
 swayed in the saddle, and The Datchman was checked. 
 
 ''Oh, if he would but sit stiUr Porter cried, as be 
 watched the equine battle. 
 
 The stand mob clamored as though Nero sat thero 
 and lions had been loosed in the arena. The strange 
 medley of cries smote on the ears of AUis. How like 
 wild beasts they were, how like wolves I She closed her 
 eyes, for she was weary of the struggle, and listened. 
 Tes, tiwy were wolves lesping at the throat of her father, 
 and joying in the defeat of Lucretia. Deep-throated 
 howls from full-chested wolves: ''Come on you, Lau- 
 sanne! 0n,We8tley, on! The Bay wins I The Dutch- 
 man— The Dutchman for a thousand 1" > 
 
 «nitak»— " 
 
 But the msw voice was stilled into nothingness by 
 the shrill, reniwalrening fslsetto. "Qoon,Weetley! L«i- 
 sanna wiB»-'irin»— wins I" it seemed to repeat AUis 
 sank back into her seat. She knew it was all over. The 
 shuffle of many feet hastening madly, the crash of eager 
 heds down the wooden steps, a surging, pushing, as the 
 wolf-pack blocked each passage in its thirstful rush for 
 the gold it had won, told her that the race was over. 
 
 No one knew which horse had won. Presently a quiet 
 came over tiM mob like a lull in a storm. Silently they 
 waited for the winning number to go up. 
 
 "I believe ifs a dead heat," said Porter; and AHia 
 noted how calm and restful his voice soundoi after ihe 
 exultant babel of the hoarse-throated watchers. 
 "TIHiere was Lucretia, father P* 
 "Third," he answered, laconically, schooling his voice 
 
 [84] 
 
CBAPTBR THREE 
 
 dl tK„?"^' °°. •" '" "-I "*d I woidd, that'. 
 
 <!«»». before a, stewri. .boaJZSje a iJt^- 
 ^iym g.™ ^ ^rt tt.t ^'d buy tlTSw. 
 
 2**i'™* it WM» plant" 
 
 Again there was more hnnriiiff otimtmM*h.. nu^x 
 "itt l»jkM. who had wSrti tto .S,^*?^; 
 
 J«to Porte rtood imwlntdy for a minnto. not an- 
 ■««% the gui, „ though he iJo, loath to j^ SI" 
 
w 
 
 THOROUOHBBEDS 
 
 the oontammating inflnraioe that teemed part md jMroel 
 of Lanzaime, and irhich was Btretching out to ennlcm 
 him. He was thinking moodily that he had plajied 
 against a man who need loaded dice, and had lost 
 through his own rashness. He had staked so much on 
 the race that the loss would cut cripplingly into his 
 affairs. > 
 
 *1 guess you're right, Allis," he said; "a man's got to 
 keep his word, no matter what happens. I never owned 
 a dope horse yet, and unless I'm mistaken this yellow 
 skate is one to-day. I'll take him though, girl ; but hell 
 get nothing but rats from me to make him gallop." 
 Then Porter went resolutely down the steps, smother- 
 in his heart the just rebellion that was tempting 
 1^ to repudiate hia bargain. 
 As he reached the lawn, a lad swung eagerly up the 
 steps, threw his eye inquiringly along row after row of 
 seats until it stopped at Allis. Then he darted to her 
 nde. 
 **Hello, Sis— been looking for you. Where's Dad?" 
 ''Gone to get Lauzanne." 
 
 "Lausanne !" and the boy's eyes that were exactly like 
 her own, opened wide in astonishment. 
 '*Yes; father bought him." 
 
 The deuce t I say, Allis, that won't do. Don't yoa 
 know thereV sometiiing wrong about this race? I |ast 
 sared myself. I backed the little mare for a V-^then I 
 heard something. This Langdon's a deuce of a queer 
 fish, I can tell you. I wonder Crane has anything to do 
 with him, for the Boss is straight as they make them." 
 "Did you back Lauzanne then, Alan P' 
 "You bet I did ; quick, too ; and was hunting all o?er 
 for the gov'nor to tell him. You see, I know Langdon— 
 
 [86] 
 
CHAPTER THREE 
 
 ^^^^^S^r^T^- ?«'' «»t dick hrtl 
 ™aiy »J Goodly, for fc„ ,, gj^ ^.^.^hiiig 
 
 JZ^r^"^ *" l«ple know th«, ,„ 
 Id better go and tell father—" 
 
 »»^-direy. keep your word. I teU tou what it if 
 Ixf— und her face lighted np aa ehe 8Bok"S.i, "' 
 
 JOB get away ftom the bank Akn i^^tS !?j T ^"^ 
 ^ortnjer wa. i^h., „., ^ ^ „^ ^^*^^ ^ 
 *'I>oe8hebetr 
 
 ^» dou« yonr work, and you"** ma^W^f 
 
 t«7] 
 
THOB0U6HBRED8 
 
 'nTou o»ii't ttifce fan of him, at him, or with 
 W§ a gntTe digger; bnt jon otn trust him.*' ^ 
 
 "That* g better/' 
 
 <lf rd killed a man and needed a friend to help me 
 ont, Fd go straight to Mortimer; he's got that kind of 
 eyes. Do you Imov why he's doing my work to-day?" 
 
 '"Because you're away, I suppose." 
 
 ^Because you recited that doggerel about The Bun of 
 Crusader." 
 
 ""Alan I I've neyer spoken to Mr. Mortimer." 
 
 'Thaf s why he choked the butcher the night of the 
 eonoert — I mean — " 
 
 f^Tou'ie talking nonsense, Alan." 
 
 'Tm not, 1 know when a man's interested. Hello. 
 Blest if the Boss isn't coming this way — there's Crane. 
 See, Allis? I've a notion to tell him that his trainer is 
 a crook." 
 
 **No, you won't, Alan—you're too young to gabUe." 
 
 Philip Crane had eridently intended goi^g higher up 
 in the stand, but his eye lighting on the brother and 
 sistor, he stopped, and turned in to where they were 
 sitting. 
 
 ''Good afternoon. Miss Port«r." 
 
 Allis started. Was the stand possessed of unpleisant 
 ▼oicesP There was a metallic ring in Crane's toioe that 
 affected her disagreeably. He was almost a stranger to 
 her; she hardly ranonbered ever having spoken to him. 
 
 He turned and nodded pleasantly to Alan, saying, 
 *llay I take this seat P I'in tired. The Cashier let you 
 off for the day, eh?" he continued. ''Came up to see 
 your father's mare run, I suppose— I'm deuoed sorry she 
 was beaten." 
 
 "What are they waiting for— why have they taken the 
 
 [88] 
 
CHAPTER THREE 
 
 Jones' Hubert down again? Are tliey trying to steal 
 Totoe behind them, petulantly exdaiming. 
 and^^^t"" ^ •"*' '^"^ 0- ^ •'moulder, 
 
 pkmedmamodnlatedtonetoAUia. «A traini is qnite 
 
 S !!!T"> !""* r^"' "'^ «°« ™* be very 2aw- 
 fol not to forget any of the obvions courtesies." 
 
 n^^T^^l,'^'^ find « »«««^ t. 
 AUis's eyes opened wide. 
 
 tio7£t wrin'^s:^'^^ '"'^^ '^^ *^« ^-- 
 
 As he said this a man came hurriedly up the steps, 
 ^oke to a policeman on guard, and search^ the f^ 
 
 ly forward and whispered something in his ear 
 ^^cuse me, I must go-Pm wanted," Craiie said to 
 
 ^^1^' the Trainer's rister spoke to him. 
 ••Whafs tiie matter, Mr. Crane-there's somethimr 
 going on up in the Stewards' Stand ?" ^^ 
 
 2 f«»cy there's an objection, though I don't know 
 
 steps with the Messenger. 
 
 Ams breathed more freely when he had gone. Some- 
 tow his presence had oppressed her; perhaps it wasX 
 W sfc^hanolis that ««ne in clouds WthellSJ Si 
 hmd that smothered her senses. Crane had said noth- 
 ing-just an ordinary compliment. Like an inspira- 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 tkm it caaM to the girl what had affected her io dia- 
 •gneably in Cwne— it was hii eyea. They wen iMid, 
 cold, glittering gray eyea, looking ont from between 
 partly doaed eyelids. AUis ooald lee them atiU. The 
 lower lids cut straight acroas; it waa as though the 
 eyes were peeping at her orer a stone wall. 
 
 ''What did I tell you about Omaaderr Alan said, 
 triumphantly. Thcnre's another." 
 
 "Alanr 
 
 1 wondered why Mr. Crane was so denoed friendly; 
 but there's nothing to get cross about, girl, he's a ilne 
 old chap, and got lots of wealth.*' 
 
 He leaned forward till he was dose to his sister's ear, 
 and added, in a whisper, "Her ladyship behind. Belle 
 Luigdon, is trying^lo hook him. Phew f— but she's loud. 
 But I'm off— I'm going to see what the row is aboai" 
 
 [40] 
 
I? 
 
 Mat6«d b«k to wrfgh in. iS^skn.^.^ ^ 
 
 ^^pMooct a WW tlut LMigdoB m. writing 
 "WdUe won. JBrt M I Mid b. would," deoUred the 
 toV^ M d^rnon him. «,' ,„„ 4n ^T- ^^ 
 
 «<^«-n. dop. h.^ i. :^;:^^ ^ • 
 
 JVnrt wtat „e.y hUekg^ ^^ ^ j^^^_^ 
 
 •»*tani6d It. anger into lear. ""•oneaietf, 
 
 jJMfyon w«>t to c»wt_if ,„u d«,t w«,t to tab 
 
 J*''f?*" •g»b' interrapted I«,gdon-«I ^id tm 
 
 fcl^m^' *?* L*^' •"* ^think th.J^" 
 fcol"* me. Mr. Luigdon T^t-B, . bl«4g«,d TtS 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 flniwater. Thank Qod, thm tn only a 1^ MOMilN 
 •jch M yon w rwiiig-ifi cmtawi lik» you tl»t fiti 
 the ^rt • M** aye. If I cm only gtt it tht bottom 
 of what haa been dona to^y, youTI gat nilad off, and 
 JonTl itay rnled off . Now torn Lanianne ofer to Andy 
 Dixon, and oom« into the SeeretaiVs offloe, whertl^ 
 giTO yon a check for him." 
 
 *Well, weTl lettle about the hone now, an* therall 
 be aomethin' to settle between us, John Porter, at some 
 other time and some other place," Uuatezed Lamrdon. 
 threateningly. "^^ 
 
 Porter looked at him with a half-amuaed, half -tolerant 
 expreesion on hii aquare face, and saic^ speaking in a 
 very dry convincing yoice: «I gnesa the check will doae 
 out aU deals between na ; it wiU pay you to keep out of 
 my way, I think.* 
 
 As tlwy mored ioward the Secietaiys offices, Porter 
 was accosted by his trainer. 
 
 "The Stewards want to speak to you, sir," said DizoB. 
 All rig^t Send a boy over to this man'a stable 
 for Lansanne—rve bought him." 
 
 The Trainer stared in amaaement. 
 
 *T11 give you the check when I come back," Porter 
 eontinued, speaking to T^ngdoa. 
 
 "There's trouble on, sir," said Dixon, aa they moved 
 toward the Stewards' box. ^^ 
 
 "There always is," commented Porter, dryly. 
 
 "The Stewards think Lucretia didn't run np to her 
 form. They've had me up, an' her jock, McKay, ia there 
 now. Starter Carson swears he couldn't get her away 
 from the poet— eays McKay fair anchored the mare. 
 He fined the boy fifty dollars at the start." 
 
 "I think they've got the wrong pig by the eai^whv 
 
 [HI 
 
CKAFTIRVOim 
 
 pwtty rich, Andy, im't it? Thty hit me hMTT oyer 
 ^J^ f,? »ow they'd like to'nile me off f7r tUt 
 
 *Trei» Mcin'i heU now," commented Dixon with 
 iMMdc durectnew. "It leemi jutt no we worWn' orer 
 
 • ^ '^^ ^^"» '^7 »«t o' * crook who ii ttkin' 
 
 • ton tt plnngin' ctt get «t the boy. I beliere^Boeton 
 Mill game of gettrn' a straight boy to play, an' lettin' 
 thehonei go hang, if the proper racket." 
 
 Tei, a good boy is better than a good hone now- 
 •days; bnt th^re like North Polei!-hard to ^ 
 ay. 
 
 «Some mug give the Stewardi a yam that you'd 
 
 wiStte^!!^' ""' "' ■" ******* "^^ y*^ ^^^ "^ 
 Porter stopped, and gasped in astonishment What 
 
 'TTon see," continued Dixon, apologetieaUy, «I didn't 
 know you was meanin' to buy that skate, so I sars it 
 was aU a damned lie." •««» ■» i says u 
 
 'T'hings aro mixed, And/, ain't they P' 
 
 *I didn't know, 8ir--*» 
 
 •K)f course not-I didn't mention it to you-it was aU 
 
 1 T"a.®^* I ^®°'* ^^^^ y^ Andy, ra go end talk 
 to tJie StowMds-tiiey'ro all ri^t; they ijj want to 
 get at the truth of it." ^ / w«w to 
 
 iJfuV^''.^^^ up the steps of the Stewardu' Stand, 
 he felt how like a man mounting a scaffold he was. tm 
 umocent man condemned to be hanged for an<^s 
 crime. 
 
 The iuTestigation had been brought about by a note 
 
THOBOUOHBREDB 
 
 OM of tht Stwwirdt had rtotiftd. The tendtr of ih* 
 miidTo ttoted in it tint ht Iwd BMked Lnonti* hMfify, 
 bat had ■trong naioiii for beUering then wm • j^ 
 on. The bftoker wu A mliftMe man and asked lor ft ^ 
 mnforhiimon^. The note had come too late— jnat n 
 the honei were itarting^— to be of arail, ezoept at a 
 ooRoboration of the lupicioiu f eatnree of the nweb 
 Starter Canon'i eridenoe at to HoKay'i handling of tiio 
 mare coincided with the contents of the note. Then 
 there waa the fact of Porter's baring bought Lanianne. 
 The Stewards did not know the actual circumstances of 
 the sale, but had been told that Lucretia's owner had 
 acquired the Chesti^ut before the race. Where dl was 
 suspicion, erery tritial happening was laid hold of; and 
 Alan's trifling bet on Lauzanne had been magnified into 
 a heayy plunge— no doubt the father's money had beoi 
 "put up by the boy. A race course is like a household, 
 emytibing is known, absolutely ererything. 
 
 Porter was aghast Were all the Furies in league 
 against him? 1^ was more or less a beUever in ludqr 
 and unlucky days, but he had nerer experienced any* 
 tiling quite so bad as this. He, the one innocent man in 
 the transaction, haying lost almost his last dollar, and 
 haTing been saddled with a bad horse, was now accused 
 of behig the perpetrator of the Tillainy; and the in- 
 sinuation was backed up by sucb a mass of dreum- 
 stantial evidence. No wonder he flushed and stood 
 silent, lost for words to express his indignation. 
 
 "Speak up, Mr. Porter," said the Steward, kindly. 
 'Those that lost on Lucretia are swearing the mare was 
 puUed." 
 
 "And they're right," blurted out Porter. "I know 
 what the mare can do ; she can make hacks of that bunch. 
 
 [44] 
 
CttAFtKR FOUA 
 
 Bh» wai itopped, tnd inttrftnd with, and giTtn all tht 
 mmt of It nom ftart to finiah; bat my l nMj waa Irarnt 
 «p with tht pvblio'a. I navar piiUad a horaa in my lila, 
 and Vm too old to begin now/' 
 
 n baliara that," declared the Steward, emphatically. 
 1*fa known you, John Porter, for forty yean, man anid 
 boy, and there nevar waa aaytiiing croolmd. But we>e 
 got to oUar thia up. Badng ian't what it oied to be— 
 if a on the iqvare now, and we want the public to onder- 
 atand that." 
 
 '^KThat doea the boy lay," asked Porter; "yonVe had 
 himnpP" 
 
 '^e laya the mare was ^helped;* that she ran like a 
 drunken man — swayed all over the course, and he 
 oonldn't pull her to^iether at alL" 
 
 ''Doea ha mean ahe was doped?" 
 
 Tou've guessed it," answraed the Steward, laconic- 
 aUy. 
 
 Thafa nonsense, sir; and he knows it. Why, the 
 little mare ia as sweet as a lamb, and as game a beast 
 aa erer looked through a bridle. Somebody got at the 
 hoj. I can prove by Dixon that Lncretia nerer had a 
 gnin of cocaine in her life— -never even a bracer of 
 whiakqr— she doesn't need it; and as for the race, I 
 hadnt a cent on Lauzanne." 
 
 "But your son—'' 
 
 <<He had a small bet; I didn't know that, even, until 
 they were running." 
 
 '^d you tell him not to back Lucretia, for he did 
 Lausanne?" 
 
 "I told him not to bet at all." 
 
 ''And you played the mare yourself?" 
 
 For answer Porter showed the Steward his race pro- 
 
 145] 
 
V • 
 
 THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 gnome, on which wu written the wager he had made 
 on Lucretia, atnd the bookmaker's name. ^x 
 
 ^AMk Ulhner to bring hia betting sheet," the Steward 
 aaid to an aaautant. 
 
 On the sheet, opposite John Porter's badge nnm- 
 b«r, was a bet, $10,000 to $4,000, in the LucretU 
 column. 
 
 'TMd this gentleman make that bet with your the 
 Steward asked of UUmer. 
 
 ''He carriei the number; besides I know Mr. Porter— 
 I remember lajfng it to him.** 
 
 'Thank you, that wiU do. Hit you pretty hard," he 
 «dd, tumijg to Porter. "And you hadn't a savi on 
 •Lauzanner' 
 
 *^otadoUar." ' 
 thaTItot?^^* y^*^ »>«ying him— is there anything in 
 
 Porter explained the purchase. The Steward nodded 
 nil head. 
 
 ihZ^y. "^ *? i^l^ *^ P"*^ ~" of winning. 
 thOM other people," he commented; «but we cim^ 
 
 anything to them for winning; nor about selling you 
 
 tte horse. I fear; and as far as you're concerae^ Lu- 
 
 CTe^waa supposed to be trying. Who gave your jockey 
 
 ^^S'V- J.^?'* interfere; he trains the horses." 
 •wed like to have Duon up here again for » minute. 
 Im sorry we've had to trouble you, Mr. Porter; I can 
 iee there is not the slightest suspicion attaches to you." 
 to answer to the Steward's query about the order to 
 McKay, Dixon said : '1 told McKay the boss had a Wg 
 Det down, and to make no mistake— no Grand Stand 
 mushforme. I told him to get to the front as soon as 
 
CHAPTER FOUR 
 
 Jt could, and itay there, and win by «■ far m 1m lik^i 
 
 woe, an I told him to get out by hinwelf /* 
 
 . «f^* '^Jk'T! ^""^^ «>e Stewards consulted for 
 
 ^^H^f'u.' *^.°^f*i^' pending a further i^ 
 wtlgfttion into his methods. 
 
 «nS^)^® caijHJting of Porter and Dixon, a 'sea of 
 nptumed faces, furrowed by lines of anxioua interest 
 had surrounded the Judge's box. W^reonZe^^yl 
 log waters reached hack over the grassed lawn to the 
 iS^r?-^ ^ indefinable feeling that something 
 «aa wrong had crept mto the minds of -^e waiting^ 
 pie, tense with excitement. ^ *^ 
 
 ,m^«.T 1/ ^T""' I^^«anne's number had gone 
 2S ^ ^'■. ^ ^*^«* «««'ly to the money iC^ 
 ^^^^^ ^"*?^ ~^ ^d the bootoS 
 ^ «»^" *^'^, waited, fighting thrir impatient soiJi 
 teto robmisjion for tte brief wait would^ in the 
 
 SSZ§.tfiJ*,.^y ^? '^*»* ^ Btentorian-Toiced 
 eri^ send through the ring the joyful cry of «AU right r 
 TJe minutes w«t by, and the delay beLqe T^ A 
 
 J^^"*l«»«. throng, as a bwT^Xdel 
 te^sbM^ ttjt the wmner had been disqualifled-th^t 
 ti«e had been an objection. First onedropped out of 
 ^^ mother J one by one, until aU sto^Van .my 
 ^T^i speculators, waiting for the verdict that 
 
 piyTXvet'SS'f J;^''' • "^ -^^^ •^• 
 
 [47] 
 
TH0H0U6HBREDS 
 
 It wMi the moft barefaced job I ever saw/' dedaxed^ 
 another; <<it'a eren betting the stable gets ruled off." 
 He had backed Porter's mare, and was vindictiye. 
 
 **Not on your life," sneered a Tout, wolflshly; "a big 
 owner always gets off. The jockOl get it in the neck if 
 they've been ctraght." 
 
 ''Why don't they pay?" whined the fonrth. "Whafa 
 the pulling of the mare got to do with it? The best 
 borse won." He was a backer of Lauzanne. 
 
 ''Bet yer life the bookies won't part till the numben 
 of the placed horses an' riders are up on that board 
 again. The/re run them down, don't you see?" dumed 
 in the Tout. 
 
 "Ill take two to ohe The Dutchman gets it," said a 
 backer of that horse. "There^s a job on, and theyll 
 both get disqualified. Porter's kid won ten thousand 
 over Lauzanne, and that's why they stiffened the man/* 
 
 "Thaf s what the Public are up against in this game," 
 sneered the backer of Lucretia. 
 
 "And the jock'U have to stand the shot; I know how 
 it goes," asserted the Tout. 
 
 **Y(m. ought to Imow," drawled Lausanne's badker. 
 The racing men within earshot smiled, for the Tout had 
 been a jockey before his license had been taken away 
 for crooked iroA, 
 
 "I|[ello I here it comes," cried Lausanne's badrer, at 
 a fat, red-&ced man came swiftly down from tiM 
 Stewuds* Stand, ran to the betting ring, and pushing 
 his way through the crowd, called with the roar of a 
 gorilla: "Al-l-l right! Lauzanne^ first! The Dutdi- 
 man, second! Lucretia, third! They're al-l-l wei^^ 
 in!" 
 
 A Niagara of human beings poured from the lawn to 
 
 [48] 
 
CHAPTER FOUR 
 
 Hm ring; they ran as though the coxum wae on fire and 
 th^ soBj^t to escape. 
 
 ''What about Lucietia?*' some one asked. 
 
 ^They've broke McKay," the red-faced crier answered : 
 "suspended him.'' 
 
 "What did I tell you P* sneered the Tout, maliciously ; 
 "if s the under dog gets the worst of it every time." 
 
 A Celt is an outspoken man when the prod of his hot 
 temper has loosened his tongue, and Mike Gaynor was 
 a Celt in excess. 
 
 The injustice that had come to his benefactor, John 
 Porter, had stirred a tempest in his Irish soul. A fierce 
 exclamation of profane wrath had gone up from him 
 M he ^tched the bad start from over the paddock raiL 
 
 A misguided retribution led Starter Carson to pass 
 from the Judges' Stand after the race, along the narrow 
 passage between the Cbah Stand and the course, to the 
 paddock gate. There he met Mike, who forthwith set 
 to flailing him. 
 
 "Did ye notice a Uttle mare called Lucretia in that 
 race, Mr. Carson— did ye see anythin' av her at all 
 down at the poet?" 
 
 Carson's eyes twinkled uneasily. Years of starting 
 had taught him that self-control was nine out of ten 
 nilee which should govern the Starter's actions. 
 
 "Was there anythin' th' mather wif yer ancestor's 
 ^yes that ye come by, Mister Carson?" 
 
 The Starter made answer with a smile of good- 
 Iramored tolerance. But Mike was only warming up; 
 the hot blood was stinging his quick brain, and his sharp 
 tongue gaUoped on with unbridled irresponsibility. 
 With the deep pathos of scorn he continued: 
 
 [49] 
 
THOSOUGHBREDS 
 
 Te'r Canon the Sthartei^Histcr Canon t SImT^ 
 me. Bob I ye couldn't ithart a fthreet car down hill wif 
 bot' brakes oflr 
 
 Carson ceased to smile; the smile had passed to other 
 faces, the ownen of whidi were listening with fiendish 
 delight to the castigation. 
 
 Some one touched Mike on the arm, saying, "Come 
 over into the paddock, Oaynor; you're barkin' up the 
 wrong tree." It was Dixon. 
 
 '^'Bof fumbs up! This game's too tough fer me— 
 111 ship me plugs to Gravesend. Whin a strai^t man 
 like Porther gets a deal av this kind — ** 
 
 •'Never mind^ Mike,'' interrupted Dixon: *1et it 
 drop." ♦ 
 
 Carson opened his lips to retort, then closed them 
 tight, set his square jaw firmly, turned on his heel, and 
 walked away. 
 
 '*What d' ye think av it, b'ys ?" appealed Mike to the 
 others. 
 
 **You're wrong, Gaynor," declared a thin, tall, hawk- 
 faced man, who was in his shirt sleeves; '^ny boy was 
 in that run, and it isn't Carson's fault at alL If s dope, 
 Mike. Lauzanne was fair crazy with it at the poet ; and 
 McKay was dead to the world on the little mare—tiw 
 Starter couldn't get him away.** 
 
 rrhaf s right, Mike," added Dixon ; "Carson fined ^» 
 boy fifty, an' the Stewards set him down." 
 
 "Is that straight goods?" asked Gaynor, losing confi- 
 dence in the justice of his wordy assault. 
 
 "Yes, you're wrong, Mike," they all asserted. 
 
 In five minutes Gaynor had found Carson, and 
 ^polc^giaed with the full warmth of a penitent Irishman. 
 
 [00] 
 
Fob a week John Porter brooded over Imcretia's de- 
 feat, and, worse Btm, over the unjust suspicion of the 
 unthinking public. Touched in its pocket, the pubUc 
 responded in unsavory referenees to Lucietia's race. 
 Porter loved a good horse, and liked to see him win. 
 The confidence of the public in his honesty was as great 
 a reward as the stakes. The avowed principle of racing, 
 that it improved the breed of horses, was but a silent 
 ■Kotiment with him. He beUeved in it, but not being 
 n<*, raced as a profession, honestly and squarely. He 
 had asserted more than once that if he were wealthy he 
 wo^never race a two-year-old. But his income must 
 bederived from his horses, bis a^ital was in them; and 
 Jrait at this time he was sitting in a particularly hard 
 
 ■treak of bad luck ; financially, he was in a hole : moraUy. 
 he stood iU with the public. ^ 
 
 His WMon told him that the m-fortune eould not 
 
 iJ^s!^ on» gwat Uttle maie, good enou^ to win, 
 
 an hooeit trainef^tiwre the inventray stuped short; 
 
 hte stock in trade was incomplete-^ had not a trusty 
 
 jOMgr. In his dilemma he threshed it out with Dixon 
 
 ^r^L ' ^ ™"® ^^^* AndyP' he asked. «What 
 did the race do to her?" 
 
 "^ never was better in her life," the Trainer an- 
 
 niwed, proudly. Then he added, to ease the troubled 
 
 w^ that was m the gray eyes of his master, "She^l win 
 
 »-*♦ time out, air— 111 gamble my shirt on that " 
 
 [51] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 '^ot witii another McKay up." 
 
 1 think ■he's good enough for the 'Edipie/ lir, 
 dashed if I don't I worked her the diitanoe, and iha 
 ahaded the time they made last year." 
 
 ''Whafs the nse," said Porter, dejectedly; •VhereH 
 we get a b<qr?" 
 
 ''Oh, lots of the boyi are straight." 
 
 **l know that," Porter answered, ''bat all the straight 
 ones ate tied huid and foot to the big stables." 
 
 'Tye been thinkin' it over," hasarded Dixon, tenta- 
 tively— "Boston Bill's got a good lad— there's none of 
 them can pnt it over hhn, an' his boas ain't got nothin' 
 in the 'EcUpse,' I )mow." 
 
 'That means the same old game, Andy; we nnrse 
 the horse, get him into condition, place 1dm where he 
 can win, and then torn him over to a plunger and take 
 the small end of the divide. Boston Bill wonld back 
 her off the boards. 
 
 'TThe stake'd monnt np to seven or ei|^ thonaand, 
 an' the win wonld square the little mare with the 
 pubUc" 
 
 "And I'd do that, if I didn't land a dollar," said Por- 
 ter. "Andy, it hurt me more to see the filly banged 
 about there in the ruck than it did giving up the mon^." 
 
 The Trainer smiled. With him this was unusual; 
 there was a popular superstition that he never miled 
 except when one of his horses won. But his heart ex- 
 panded at Porter's words, for he, too, was fond of the 
 little mare. 
 
 Then Porter spoke again, abruptly, and fast, as 
 though he feared he might change his mind: "They 
 downed me last trip, Dixon— I guess I'm getting a bit 
 slow in my paces; and you do just as you like—arrange 
 
 [5t] 
 
GHilPTER FIVE 
 
 with Borton Bill if you think if • good buiiMH. He 
 mtkas a fpedilty of winning r tco e n ot polling honeg, 
 and wo need t win, too, 1 goew/' 
 
 'Thank yon, sir. Well land that itake; an' p'raps 
 the shaip diTisionOl take a tumble. Ill bet a dollar 
 theyll go for The Dntchman— he ran a great race the 
 other day, an' he's in the Eclipse— if they start him. 
 Loroetia's right on edge, she's lookin' for the key hole, 
 an' may go bsok if we don't give her a race. We'd 
 better get the money for the oat bill while if t in li^t. 
 She onghter be a long price in the bettin', too," continned 
 Dixon, meditatively; ''the public soon soar on a beaten 
 horse. Yoall have a chance to get even." 
 
 *I don't like that part of it," muttered Porter; *a'm 
 in the black books now. People have no reason at all- 
 no sense; they've got it into their heads that dirty job 
 was of my making, and if the filly starts at ten to one. 
 and I win a bit, ttey'U howl." 
 
 **You can't make a success of radn*, sir, an' run your 
 stable for the public— they don't pay the feed bill." 
 
 Terhaps you're right, Dixon," answered Porter. 
 
 For immediate financial relief Porter knew that he 
 must lock to Lucretia— no other horse in his stable was 
 rea^ to win; but more immediately he must arrange 
 certain money matters with his banker, who was Philip 
 Crane. To Porter, Crane had been a tolerant financier, 
 taking the man's honesty liberally as a security; not but 
 what Bingwood had be^ called upon as a tangible as- 
 set So that day, following his conversation with Dixon, 
 the master of Bingwood had an interview with his 
 banker. It was natural that he should speak of his 
 proq>ect»— his hopes of winning the Eclipse with Lu- 
 cretia, and, oorroboratively, mention her good trial 
 
THOBOUOHBREDS 
 
 «I think thaf • a good man of jmu§, Mr. Torta," 
 Mid Crane, ayniijJMthfitioally. I only raoa» nqrtdf &L.a 
 •mall way, jnit for tha outdoor relaxation it giTM im^ 
 yon know, to I'm not mndi of a judge. The ottHnr ham 
 yon boQght — the winner of the race, I mean, Lannone 
 — wiU alio help put you right, I ihould lay.'' 
 
 Porter htedtated, uneanly. He disliked to talk about 
 a man behind hie back, but he knew Uiat T^ngi^^ 
 trained for Crane, and longed to giro the banker a 
 friendly word of warning; he knew nothing of tiw^ 
 lattnr's manipulation of tito trainer. 
 
 With a touch of mstio quaintneie he laid, with leeni- 
 ii^ irrelevanoe to the eubject, ''Have you erer picked 
 wild ftrawberriee in the ildds, Mr. Crane P' 
 
 **I have," answered the other man, slewing no nir- 
 prise at the break, for life in Brookfield had aecne- 
 tomed him to disjointed deals. 
 
 'Did you ever notice that going down, wind you ooold 
 see the berries better?" 
 
 Crane tlunigfat for a moment. Tes, thafs ri^; 
 coming up wind the leares hid them." 
 
 "Just so," commented Porter; ''and wfam a man's 
 got a trainer he's nearly always working up wind with 
 him." 
 
 The trainer hides things?" qmried Crane. 
 
 ''Sooie Ao, But the outsiders walking down wind fee 
 the berrifiik" 
 
 And the Banker pondered for a minut^ then he said, 
 ''Whose garden are the berries in, Mr. Pcnrter, yours mr 
 mine?" 
 
 "Wen, you've always been a good friend of mine, Mr. 
 -Crane," Porter answered, evasively. 
 
 "I see," said the other, meditatively; 1 understa^ 
 
CHAPTER FIVE 
 
 Aaimidi obliged. If I thwight for m liuttnt that any 
 tMlaw VMii't dMliag parlietly itndghtfonrard with 
 in^ Id hKn nothing mort to do with him— nothina 
 
 Onne Mt lookiag through the open window at John 
 Porter w the latter went down the street About his 
 wn-hpped, square-framed month horeied an expression 
 that might hate been a smik, or an intense look of in- 
 terest, or a tonch of aTaridous ferocity. The gray eyes 
 peeped oyer the waU of their lower Uds, and in them, too, 
 was tlM unfathomable something. 
 
 Tcs," he repeated, as though Porter stffl stood be- 
 ude hm, "if Langdon tried to deceive me, I'd crush 
 ban. Poor old Porter with his story of the strawberries! 
 Ifhe were as dever as he is honest, he wouldn't have 
 been stuck with a horse like Lausanne. I told Langdon 
 to get rid of that quitter, but I almost wish he'd found 
 Motter buyer for him. The horse taint is pretty stronir 
 m that Porter blood. How the girl said that line, 
 
 'And a Muh oome over the otemoroM mob; 
 Uke a babe on hU neck I vhu eoWng.* 
 
 She's devwer than her father." 
 
 ^ane sat for an hour. Porter had vanished frwn the 
 iMWMtpe, but still the Banker's thoughts clung to his 
 
 ptWMal^ as though the peeping eyes saw nothing elsa. 
 ftomtiw tune <rf the first loan obtained upon Bing- 
 
 i»od,Cwne had coveted the place. It appealed to him 
 Witt lU elm-bordered, swe^ng driveway, leading from 
 fate to old colonial residence. Its thick-grassed fields 
 imd running water made it just the place for a man who 
 tempCTed his passion for radng with common sense. 
 And It would pass from Porter's hands right enough— 
 
 [56] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 CiMit kntw thit. Porttr Bbgiit c«ll it ill liiflk- Hut li* 
 
 wi^^*..^ Twy fine in theory, but nd^, «. £ 
 
 **^*Wr«iooimected with the betti^riM ^ 
 
 . ,^f did the giri, Alli^ with heTSilS*™. ffli-B 
 
 "^» tad withal with « gntt iweetnen. 
 
 WiSlS? "S?^^ f*""*^ ^ ^ diMpprobttioii of 
 
 the podcet and drew out tdgar. OrdinarilTthTlMBfl? 
 Znf*?**^ ^!l u^ ""^ worked^Sn 
 
 tgp. HehadwonabiggtakeomLaii«mne'g?k^ 
 
 The «oe had helped beggar Porter, and bron^itlK 
 
 [56] ^ ^ 
 
 i-sSMffifcKwaSBefe! 
 
Cr AFTER Ftm 
 
 "Sa^^iH^ Wi ooTrtoM grup. If Porter fUM to 
 
 1^ tt.Bdi|«e, hit lli»MM« would be in • pitiable rtttt^ 
 
 h.ffl^av«h«^to.eUhi.goodimylicZr 
 would be a golden opportunity. 
 
 From dedring the him, iuMnsibly Cnuie drifted 
 
 SSS,72^**^T^ HefeUtow/nderi^wi^SS 
 TJeDutchnun might not beet LncrotiiL A^LetiTS 
 
 ^ iort WM one of the few he diecoi^d with W^ 
 ^ hi^ imoked hji 0^ ant, had .ettleu the^d 
 of nany things, and dereloped the routine f<«hii cheie. 
 men. 
 
 i^2^^^ ^!^^ *'**~«^' in the way of fondi, to 
 tangle hw»«df, and in the meantime m rJn np to New 
 Z^.-^ ■« '^^ Wdon think, about Tl^ SuS! 
 JJM^ wii the shorthand record of hia thonghti m he 
 
 iSTfrC"'"''^'^'*^^^^?--^ 
 
 TW evening he talked with hi. trainer. 
 -wSl*ilSf i!?^ \^^' Langdonr he adnd. 
 •iZS:i ^ * ^*!;T ''^"^ ■**^' *>^8" ^ Trainer, 
 
 ^ d^plomato caution, running oTi«l hi. mind lS 
 meet likdy two-year-old.. 
 
 ^ould Porter", mare have a chancer 
 
 a^J^y^"^^ I he« iomethin' about a trial 
 
 W SSl^TJ^ T"**** ^ ""^^^ I ~«ld find out 
 h» tlmjH-Porter don't talk much, an' Andy IW, 
 
 i,J^^T^^ ***^» *»"* ^ didn't know that Portv 
 
 •owd to take a virtuou. pose. 
 
 [57] 
 
THOROUGHBREDB 
 
 ''Hat Th» Dntehmui a look inf* continiwd Onm, ^ 
 
 "On hie rannin' he has; h« wan't half fit, aa' foi ai 
 bad a ride M over I M0 in my life. The nuw oogfat to be 
 betwetn 'em— I ain't leen no two-yearolde ont to beat 
 that pair." 
 
 Izlthonght The Dntcfaman would win Fd buy him. 
 I like fame honee, and men, too-^thatll take the gaff 
 and tiy." 
 
 1 don't know ae the owner'd leU him." 
 
 'Do yon remember the baying of SilTor Foot, Lang> 
 donr 
 
 Tee." 
 
 '^e wae a good l^me." 
 
 "The beet lumdioap hone in the ooontry, an' he was 
 iold tm a eon^^-HMren thousand." 
 
 "Lem than that, the first time," oorreoted Crana 
 
 Tes, they stole him from old Walters; made him be- 
 liere tlw horse wae no good." 
 
 "Jvst so," oomnMnted Crane ; I'to heard that stoiy," 
 and his smooth, pntty-like face remained blank and de- 
 toid of all meaning, as his eyes peered TaoaDdy ofer 
 their lower lids at the Trainer. 
 
 Langdon waited for the other to oontino^ but the 
 Banim seemed wrapped np in a ntumpeat of the j^ver 
 Foot deal 
 
 <7 know Billy Smith, that trains The Dntdiman," 
 haauded Langdon; 'Qie's a booaer." 
 
 Tm glad of that— I mean, that yon know Smith," 
 dedaied Crane. **! happen to know the owno^— his 
 name is Baker. His racing is what mii^t be called in- 
 discriminate, and like men of that class he sometimes 
 blnndov upon a good horse without knowing it ; and I 
 doubt very much but that if he knew all about ti» other 
 
 [533 
 
CHAPTER FIVE 
 
 not— liow bad LtuMimt rwlly it; how the mut. La- 
 ei0U«F-«tU— fot ihnt off, and eooldn't g«t through her 
 horeee, Bax--of oonne hie own trainer. Smith, wonld 
 hate to teU theee thinge, yon underatand. In fact, if he 
 knew the exact tmth, he might take a reaeonaUe offer 
 lor The Datehman." 
 
 Tiangdon nodded qyproringly. He loved his rabtlti 
 -master; cards np his sleeyee tingled his nenree, anj 
 loaded dice were a Joy for evermore. 
 
 Crane proceeded to unwind the silken eord. ' Nu 
 nrally Sinith wonld hate to lose a fair horse out ni his 
 itahle, and would, perhaps, attempt to thwart any deal; 
 io I think yon might remunerate him for hu kaa.* 
 
 inuok Silver Foot was sold, they gave him a had 
 trial before the sale— " 
 
 I'm not interested in Silver Foot," intermpted 
 Crane; "and I shouldn't Uke to have anything^well, I 
 don't want my name a ssoc i at e d with anything shady, yon 
 understand, Langdtmf Fob lie to bay The Dutchman 
 •a diei^ as yon can, and nm him ae your own horse in 
 the Bdipee. 1 think Porter's aaie will win it, so we 
 needn't hm anything over The Datdman." 
 
 Langdon started. With all his racing finesse he was 
 a babe. The smooth, oomplaoent-faoed man in front of 
 him made him realise this. 
 
 ''Bat," he gasped, 'there was a row over Lausanne's 
 race. If The Dutchman runs in my name, an' a lot o' 
 mugs play him— if s dollars to dou^uts they will— 
 an' he gets beat, therell be a kick. I can't take no 
 chanoea of bein' had up by the Stewards." 
 
 "Wait a bit," repUed Crane, calmly. "Supposing 
 Porter's mare worked five and a half furlongs in 1.07, 
 how would she go in the Eclipse?" 
 
 ISO] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 "SWd win in ft wftlk; nnleis The Dutchman wm it 
 hia bait wh«n he might give her an argument." 
 
 ''Well, if I thought The Dutchman could beat the 
 maie, Td n^Uce him win, if he never carried the saddle 
 again/' dedaxed Crane, almost fiercely. Then he inter- 
 rupted himself, breaking off abruptly. Very seldom in- 
 deed it was that Crane gave expiession to sentiment; 
 his words were simply a motor for carrying the im- 
 pact of his well-thought-out plans to the execntiTe 
 agents. 
 
 "It will be doing Porter a good turn to—to— that is, 
 if Lacretia wins. Infancy he needs a win. Bad radng 
 luck will hardly stop the mare this time— not twice in 
 succession you know, Langdon," and he looked meaning- 
 ly at his jackal 'Ton buy The Dutchman, and be good 
 to him." 
 
 He laid marked emphasis on the words ''be good to 
 him." The trainer understood. It meant that he was 
 to send The Dutchman to the post half fit, eased up in 
 his work; then the horse could try, and the jockey could 
 try, at.d, in spite of it all, the fast filly of Porter's would 
 win, and his subtle master, Crane, would have turned 
 the result to his own benefit. Why should he rea8<m, or 
 object, or counterplot, or do anything but just fbUow 
 blindly the dictates of this past master in the oblique 
 game he loved so well? Crane wanted The Dutehman 
 because he wm a good horse; he also wanted to have a 
 heavy plunge on Lucretia ; but with the son of Hanover 
 in otlKr hands the good thing might not come off. 
 
 Somehow Langdon felt miserably inefficient in the 
 presence of Crane— his self-respect suffered; the other 
 man's mind wm so overmastering, even to detail. The 
 Trainer felt a sudden desire to right himself in Craned 
 
 [60] 
 
 
CHAPTER FIVE 
 
 aftunatioii, give Mme evidenoe of ordinaiy intdligfnoe, 
 or cftp«bility to cany out his miuion. 
 
 *^ The Dutchman's owner was made to think that 
 the horse was likely to break down, throw a splint, or — " 
 
 But Crane interrupted him in his quiet, masterful 
 way, saying : **l know nothing of horse trading ; I simply 
 funiish the money, loan it to you, my dear Mr. Langdon, 
 and ^u buy the animal in your own beat wa^. Yon will 
 pay for him with a check on my bank." 
 
 Ko man could dose out an interview so effectually as 
 Crane. 
 
 As Langdoc slipped away as though he had been 
 thrust bodily from the room, there was in his mind noth- 
 ing but admiration of his master — ^the man who backed 
 up his delicate diplomacy with liberal capital. 
 
 In spite of what he had said to Langdon, there was 
 little doubt in Crane's mind but that the son of Hanover 
 was a better horse than Lucretia. A sanguine owner— 
 ejea Borter was one at times — ^was so apt to oyerrate 
 everything in his own stable, especially if he had bred the 
 animal himself, as t'orter had Lucretia. To buy The 
 Dntchman and back him on sudi short ownership to 
 tteat Lucretia would have been the policy of a very ordi- 
 nary mind indeed; he would simply be fencing, with 
 rapiers of equal length, with John Porter. 
 
 Crane had attained to his success by »>>iniring « little 
 deeper than other men, going a little beyond them in 
 the carefulness of his phms. He knew intuitively — in 
 fact Porter's unguard^ conversation had suggested it 
 — ^that Lucretia's owner meant to win himself out of his 
 diflScult position by backing the little mare heavily for 
 tiie Eclipse, expecting to get his money on at good odds. 
 By owning The Dutchman Crane could whipaaw the 
 
 [61] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 •itnation; fonsUU Porter in the betting by baddnir Lb^ 
 
 K^^^LT^ • «^^' *«*^ «»« Hanover c^ 
 1?^** ^"^ ~°^® ^*>'*e' to "rtake money, and Siaff. 
 
 links he had f oiged on the plaoe. 
 
 Almost iMenaibly, side by side with this weed of 
 ^y there was growing in Crane's mind a m^pl 
 ^„^n' r*^^*' • ^^^« ^'^^^'^ Strirea.^ 
 
 s^ lum:..-C^ could not obliterate from Mb 
 ^nghts the wondrons gray eyes of Allis Porter. Even 
 ^ ^^\'"^J^'^* ^ atmosphere of the room 
 ^/T^ by unho^ underplay, iSoughts of the^ 
 came to Crane, josthng and elbowing the evU JS- 
 ceptions of his restless mind. Grotesqu^ incon^ori 
 It was. Crane was actually in loveTbut the loTfloro 
 gire enough in itself had rooted in marvelous^^ 
 
 fint sight. But he was forty, and the methods of that 
 
 r*;V!w'?'"* '*^ «^^®™ ^»« *<^ioD«- iMtinetively 
 ^^t that he must win the girl by diplcm^TS 
 
 ft^e's Idea of diplomacy was to get a mL irrev«;cably 
 
 ?r.^ ^^' x." ^^^ ^""^^ '^^^ ^d«»*ted to him b^ 
 yond redemption, if he practically owned Bingwood. 
 
 why should he not succeed with Allis? AU hiTlife h^ 
 had gone on in just that way, breaking men, for broken 
 men were beyond doubt but potter's cUy^ 
 
 J^^^^'n^'^^lV^^^'^^'''^ What methods he 
 onployed Crane took no pains to discover; in fact 
 
 the diflSculties he had overcome in the purchase The 
 pnce was the only item that interested Cran©-«mai 
 
 [68] 
 
CHAPTER FIVE 
 
 ^eoMiid dollars; that ioduded eT«tything^-«f«n tha 
 Mcrot wrTice mosey. 
 
 Tbe hone acquired. Crane had one mor« move to 
 anke; he sent for Jakey Faust, the Bookmaker. Faust 
 ?^J?"** ^^ * reciprocal understanding. When the 
 Bookmaker needed financial assistance he got it from 
 tte Banker; when Crane needed a missionary amona 
 the other bookmakers, Faust acted for him. 
 
 "I want to back Lucretia for the 'Eclipse.**' Crane 
 •Bd to the bookmaker. 
 
 ''Lucretia,** ejaculated Faust. «She*ll have a rosy time 
 beatin* Dutehy on their last race. They'U put a better 
 h^ up on the cok n«t time, an* he ou|^t to come home 
 •11 by himself.'* 
 
 *Te8, a ttrish sort of a jock will have the mount I 
 miafc— Westley*8 a good enough boy.** 
 "WestleyP* came w«aieringly from Faust. 
 "Yea; Ungdon owns The Dutchman now.** 
 1^ CJerub pursed his fat round lips in a soft whistle 
 of oili^tenment. It had staggend him at first that 
 Crm^ for whose acumen he had a profound respect, 
 ■ho« have intended such a hazardous gamble: now he 
 sawli^t. 
 
 "Then my book is full on the Porter mare?** he said 
 inqu^ingly. * 
 
 Crane nodded his bead. 
 
 "An^ I hiy against the Hanover coltP* 
 
 Again Crane nodded. 
 
 ^^t*s not bookmaking/* continued Faust. 
 
 Pm not a bookmaker,** retorted Crane. "And see 
 
 Here, Faust, * he continued, 'Vhen you*ve got my m nev 
 
 on the Porter mare— when and how I leave to you— I 
 
 TWot you to cut her price short— do you understand? 
 
 [68] 
 
THOBOUGHBBXDS 
 
 Hake her go to the poet two to one on, if yon en; 4mft 
 forget that.*" 
 
 '^f the more foee wrong?" objected Fantt 
 
 1 don't think she will, tat yon n eedn 't be in » hmsy 
 -^tlKre's plmlgr of time." 
 
 <*Whaf8 the limits asked fanst. 
 
 '1 want Iwr backed down to eren Ms—y at leHt/* 
 Crane answered ; 'probably ten thonsand tHll do it At 
 any rate you can go that far." 
 
 Then for a few days Langdon prepared his new hont 
 for the Eclipse according to his idea of Crane's idea; 
 and Dixon roui^de^ Lucretia to in a manner that j^bd- 
 dened John Porter's heart. Th^ knew nothing ci any- 
 thing bnt that Lncretia was yery fit, that t^ had 
 Boston Bill's jockey to ride straight and honest for than, 
 and tiiat with a good price against the mare th^ woaj^ 
 leoonp all their losses. 
 
 [•*] 
 
VI 
 
 Thi day of the raee when John Porter went into the 
 betting ring he was confronted with even money about 
 hie mare. If he had read on the ring blackboard a 
 noiioe that ihe was dead, he would not have been more 
 tetooiihed. He fought his way back to the open of the 
 paddock without making a bet 
 
 "Ewn. money P' ejaenlated Dixon when his owner 
 told him of the ring situation, '*why, they're crazy. 
 Who's doin' itr 
 
 **Not the public/* declared Porter, "for I was there 
 Just aftor the first betting. It must be your friend 
 Boston Bill that has forestalled us; nobody else knew of 
 the mare's trial.'* 
 
 **M9i on your life, Mr. Porter; Boston plays fair. 
 Wje think he could live at this game if he threw down 
 his friends?*' 
 
 ^Bst nobody else even knew that we*d sot a good boy 
 for tLn mare.** ' 
 
 **Jt doa*t make no difference,** curtly answered 
 IMx<m; **Wb a million dollars to a p^my whistle that 
 Boston hasn't a dollar on yet. Our agieemmt was that 
 he'd said in his commission when ihej were at the 
 poet, an* his word*s like your own, sir, as solid as a 
 judge's decision. If s some one else. Tfaere*8 somebody 
 behind that damned Langdon — he*8 not clever enough 
 for all this. D*you know that The Dutchman's runnin' 
 4l#i|ngd(m's name to-day P' 
 
 [66] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 "Heisr 
 
 **Y««; he's sQppoied to own him." 
 
 ^^ut whafs that got to do with Lucwti»*i pricer 
 
 It meaM that we're goin' to be allowed to win. The 
 
 other day they laid against her, an' she got beat: to-day 
 
 they're holdin' her out, so I snppoie she'll win, but aom*^ 
 
 body else gets tHe benefit." ^^ 
 
 "Gad! that Langdon must be a crook," muttered Por^ 
 
 !^- S ?**^ *° 'P**^ ^ °»y '"e°d Crane about him 
 ««ii«.Nio honest man should have horses in his stable." 
 
 That they shouldn't," asserted Dixon. ''But we've 
 gat our own teoubles to-day. From what I see of this 
 ihmg Id rather Wk the mare at even money than I 
 would if she was ten to one. If Fm any juie we're 
 being buncoed good and plenty.** 
 
 "1 mj^ you're right Dixon. I'll go back and have a 
 good bet down on her at evens." 
 
 But in five minutes Lucretia's owner was back in the 
 paddock with the cheerful inter ^genoe that the mare 
 was now three to five. 
 
 '*! wouldn't back 'Salvator' among a lot of cart 
 horses at that price," commented Dixon; 'Oeave it alone 
 an we'U go for the Stake. We're up against it good and 
 nard; somebody seems to know more about our own 
 norse than we do ourselves." 
 
 n "^ *!^..T^' *^* *^® e^ *re angry with itt. 
 Dixon, said Porter moodily; and the mortals wiB be 
 
 badred the httle mare at this short price no doubt, in' 
 if she s beaten theyTl howl ; if she wins theyTl swea^ mv 
 money was on to-day, and that I pulled her in her lart 
 race. 
 
 John Porter sat in the Grand Stand with his usual 
 
 [66] 
 
CHAPTER SIX 
 
 •ooqwiiifl^ Allii, betide him, m The Dutchnum, Lu- 
 CT^ and the other Bdipse honee puaed down the 
 bro^ qwjed of the straight Edipee coune to the flve- 
 •ad-ft-half hukmg poet. 
 
 T^Bi* Porter had mi«ed his betting, he intuititely 
 
 «r*l^i2Kl,** *°l!?P**^ "^ Only a true loyei 
 cf tboroi^reds etn know anything of the mad tmnult 
 
 i^,^ K*^* 7^*''"*" ^ ^"^ ■^'^ '^ loved 
 hoiae eomes bravely, gallantly out from the sorgimr 
 
 ^ong of his rivals, peerksi and kir- of them all, 
 
 •trrt^ his tapered neck with eager striving, and goes 
 aaward, past the tribunal, fiiat and alone/the leader- 
 
 the i^ner, the one to be cheered <rf the many thousands 
 WOBght to frenzy by his conquest 
 
 *J'^^l^Vff '^ ™ **»^y» father-don't you 
 thnj sor asked Allis; '*I feel that she will« ^ 
 
 m}fi^Lf^X^^ "^^^ ^P'" ^^ *°'"'««^ "She's a 
 
 ««iBg down the Eclipse hill. I expect theyTl J^ at 
 a^h^ble jog, too; they don't often hang back <m that 
 
 i^7^ ^l^L^^^ ""^"y and the labor of get- 
 ^l^riT^^l "^ oveiwthat the horses had ^ne 
 ^ pJ^r^l^li^' race rested with Lucretia^r- 
 r^'Z!.^ "?^ **^ '^l**^- Even at the time of 
 ^^ «*^le Itself ten«on had gene from himj he 
 iWi la a meditative mood, and spoke on, weiriiinir the 
 chances, with Allis as aufieaoe. «gning tne 
 
 ^ut theyai have to move some to beat the little 
 ^L^^^ ""'^ '' in record time if they 
 
 fa2?r *^ ^"^ *^* ^'^ ^' ^ ""^^ ^y ^' **»> 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 The Datdunaiif— jw, bat I iancy hia owner ii back- 
 
 ing my maxe.*' 
 "Father !*» 
 
 "It wouldn't make any difference, though; she'd beat 
 him anyway. If Fm any judge, he*! ihort." 
 
 AUiB felt a nutle at her elbow as though someoiie 
 wiihed to paM between the aeata. The faintert whiff of 
 stephanotis came to her on the lazy fommer air. In- 
 voluntarily she tnmed her head and looked for the 
 harsh-voiced woman who had been verily steeped in the 
 aggressive odor the day of Lausanne's triumph. Two 
 buriy men sat heidkd her. They, surely, did not afleet 
 perfumery. Higher up the stand her eye searched— 
 four rows back sat the woman Alan had said was Lang- 
 don's aster. There was no forgetting the flamboyant 
 bnUiancy of her apparel. But the almost fancied 
 aephyr of steidumotis was mingling with the rustle at 
 her dhow; she turned her head inquiringly in that di- 
 rection, and Crane's eyes peeped at her over the ataae 
 wall of their narrow lids. He was standing in tiie paa- 
 sage just beyond her father, now looking wiitlidlT at 
 the vacant seat on her left. 
 
 **Good afternoon. Miss Porter-^iow are you, Povterf 
 May I sit here with you and see Lucretia winP 
 
 "Come in, come in I" answered Portw, frankly. 
 
 **I was sitting with some friends h^ihor up in tlw 
 stand, ^len I saw you here, and thought I'd like to 
 make one of the victorious party." 
 
 Allis knew who the friends were; the clinging toodi 
 of stephawids had come with him. The discrepancy in 
 Crane's sentiments jarred on Allis. That other day this 
 w««an had been his trainer's aster, recogniaed for p^tic 
 purposes; to-day he had been sitting with "frienda." 
 
CHAPTER SIX 
 
 Tqjiing the rdl in the dirtanoe, jut where the eonne 
 Wnked « little to the left, Allis oould see the MuTS 
 mwy colored lilkB in the ronlij^t. Then it seemed to 
 fWten down almoet level with the rail, as the honet 
 »wo«dened ont to the earth in racing spread and the 
 ndwt dung low to the gaUqping colts, for they had 
 •tarted. 
 
 ^'7^^J<>'^/*^dCTme. ''Whafs in thclcad. 
 Forterr 
 
 *!. J^'*?^^^ °®* ""^'- A man oonld hare oonnted 
 thirty before he said, **The Dutchman's out in front— 
 a length, and they're coming down the hiU like mad " 
 
 AUis felt her heart sink. Was it to be the same old 
 rtory—was there always to be something in front of 
 Lucretia? 
 
 '*Where is your mareP* Crane asked. 
 His own glass lay idly in his lap. Though he spoke of 
 the race, it was curious that his eyes were watching the 
 play of Alhs'a features, as Hope and Despairfought 
 their old human-torturing fight over again in her heui 
 Now she's coming r Porter's voice made Crane 
 jump; he had almost forgotten the race. To the dose- 
 oricnlating mind it had been settled days before. The 
 Dut<*man would not win, and Lucretia was the beet of 
 the others— why worry? 
 They were standing now— everybody was. 
 *^ow, my beauty, theyTl have to gaUop," Porter waa 
 
 They were dose up, and Crane could see that Lucretia 
 ted got to the bay coifs head, and he was dying awav 
 He smiled cynicaUy as he watched Westley go to tbi 
 whip on The Dutchman, with Lucretia half a length in 
 the lead. Most certainly Langdon was an eSuent 
 
 [eg] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 'N.. 
 
 tniiMr; Ths Datehnum wm jvmt good onoagk to laot 
 
 into Moond pUee, and Lodretia had won handilj. What 
 a win Grant had bad I 
 
 A little imothered gaip diatraetod hia momtntuy 
 thought of racoeM, and, tuning qniokly, ha law toan in 
 a pair of gray eym that were set in a imiling faoe. 
 
 "Like a babe on his neck I waa sobbing," *^«^ baek 
 to Crane out of the poem Allia had redted. 
 
 **I congratulate you. Miss Porter/' he said, niaing 
 his hat Then he turned, and held out his hand to her 
 father, saying: I'mi^ad you're won, Portei^-I thought 
 you would. The Dutchman quit when he was pinched." 
 
 **It wasnt the coifs fault— he was short," said Fteter. 
 1 shouldn't like to have horsea in that man's stable- 
 he's too good a trainer for me." 
 
 There was a marked emphasis on Porter's words; he 
 was trying to give Crane a friendly hint. 
 
 'Tou mean ifs a case of strawberries?" questioned 
 Crane. 
 
 '^ell I know it takes a lot of candles to find a lost 
 quarter," remarked Porter, somewhat ambiguously. 
 Then he added, **I must go down to thank Dixon; I 
 guess this is his annual day for smiling." 
 
 •I'm eoming, too, father," said Allis; '*I want to 
 thank Lucretia, and give her a kiss, brave little oweet- 
 heart." 
 
 After Allis and her father had left Crane, he sat fbr 
 a minute or two waiting for the crowd of people that 
 blocked the passageway after each race to filter down on 
 the lawn. The way seemed clearer presently, and Crane 
 fell in behind a knot of loud-talking men. The two of 
 large proportions who had sat behind Allis, were like 
 huge gate posts jammed there in the narrow way. Aa he 
 
 [70] 
 
CHAPTER 8DC 
 
 ■wtd tkng ilo^ he pramitly htd knowledn of a, 
 
 gB. from • oontei^tion of the heeb in frontofhim, 
 hjMM^BeUe Lttgdon. She aoddad with p«t«»i^ 
 
 •^lortjoii,''ih«itid. 
 
 ;i WM ritting ipith wmo friends here," he eipltined. 
 
 aI5 *^ hw* ihe commented pointedly. 
 
 At thjt inrtMt one of the etont men in front idd. 
 1^ • hetrt «uirl, '^eU thef. the word eterj rS 
 •jmwne job. ui mj time, but thii put. it orer anything 
 
 "Kdn't you beck the little ausre?" • thin voice 
 ■qrotled. It WM the Tout. 
 
 ^iJ*nothin'I 'n«, iMt time out die couldnt un- 
 tewkh»wlf; an' to^y die come., without tny puU in 
 «S3S5i\*?l^ TOi in t walk from The DutAman: 
 and didn't he beat her ju>t as easy the other day r 
 
 Belle Langdon looked into Crane's face, and her eye. 
 ;r^^;«g^ with a look of redprocd i^^ 
 jactod. How aggresdyely obnoxious this half-tutored 
 
 ■dfl TherewasanimpUedcrime-partnerdiipinW 
 gj^ whidi revolted him. Dick l2^nLt ha^ 
 
 h^Jt ^A ^'^ ^^r^- CranerSnsdenc^wdl, 
 ta^y had one perhaps, at lead it was always sub^ 
 
 «id«t; to put ,t m another way, the w^^ 
 
 awapulated diplomacy never bothered himVbut this 
 
 ^tmtous dianng in his evil triumph was dLiquiding. 
 
 ^ahoous glitter of the girl's smaU black^esl^^ 
 
 tested drongly Witt the honed, unafTected l^k ^t 
 
 was forever in the big tranquil eyes of Allis. 
 
 They were just at the head of the steps, and the Tout 
 
 [71] 
 
MCMCOiT MOUmON TBT CHAIT 
 
 (ANSI and BO TEST CHAITT No. 2) 
 
 1.0 
 
 1.1 
 
 M) 
 
 Itt 
 
 ■1. 131 
 
 IK 
 
 L£ 
 
 IM 
 
 IhIm 
 
 L6 
 
 ^m\ 
 
 A 
 
 /f=>PUEO M/GE Inc 
 
 ItU Eort Mtin StrMt 
 
 Wichilir. Nm YOffc 14e(» USA 
 
 (71«) 4«-0300-Ptara 
 
 (7tQ aM-atw-Fn 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 was saying to the fat expoatulator : "I could have put 
 you next; I steered a big bettor on— he won a thousand 
 over the mare. I saw Boston's betting man havin' an 
 old-time play, an* I knew it was a lead-pipe cinch. He's 
 a sure thing bettor, he is; odds don't make no difference 
 to him, the shorter the better— that's when his own bov's 
 got the mount." 
 
 "It's all right to be wise after the race," grunted the 
 fat man. 
 
 "G'wanI the stable didn't have a penny on Lucretia 
 last tmie; an' what do you suppose made her favorite 
 to-day?" queried the Tout, derisively. "It took a bar! 
 of money," he continued, full of his own logical deduc- 
 hons, «an' I'll bet Portbr cleaned up twenty thousand. 
 He s a pretty slick cove, is old 'Honest John,' if you ask 
 me." ^ 
 
 The girl at Crane's side cackled a laugh. "He'sfunny, 
 isn't he?" she said, nodding her big plumed hat in the 
 direction of the man-group. 
 
 «m?®'^ * talkative fool I" muttered the Banker, shortly. 
 The steps are clear on the other side. Miss Langdon 
 you can get down there. I've got to go into the paddock; 
 you'll excuse me." 
 
 Being vicious for the fun of the thing had never ap- 
 pealed to Crane; he raced as he did everything else— to 
 ynn. li other men suffered, that was the play of fate 
 He never talked about these things himself, ahnost dis- 
 liked to think of them. He turned his back on Belle 
 Langdon and went down the right-hand steps. On the 
 grass sward at the bottom he stopped for an instant to 
 look across at the jockey board. 
 
 Three men had just came out of the refreshment bar 
 under the stand. They were possessed of many thinm • 
 
 [7«] 
 
i 
 
 i' 
 
 CHAPTER SIX 
 
 gold of the bookmakers in their pockets, and it's ever- 
 attendant exhilaration in their hearts. One of them had 
 cracked a bottle of wine at the bar, as tribute to the ex- 
 oeeding swiftness of Lucretia, for he had won plenti- 
 fuUy. At that particular stage there was nothing left 
 but to talk it over, and they talked. Crane, avaricious, 
 unhesitating in his fighting, devoid of sympathy, was 
 not of the eavesdropping class, but as he stood there he 
 was as much a part of the other men's conversation as 
 though he had been a fourth member of the brother- 
 hood. 
 
 '1 tell you none of these trainers ain't in it vith a 
 gentleman owner— when he takes to racin'. When a 
 man of brains takes to runnin' horses as a profesh, he's 
 gen rally a Jim Dandy." It was he of the wine-openinff 
 who let fall these words of wise value. 
 
 "D'you mean Porter, Jim?" asked number two of 
 the tno. 
 
 ''Maybe that's his name. An' he put it aU over Mister 
 Langdon this trip." 
 *'As how?" queried the other. 
 
 X,. "^V^® ^^ ^^^ ^ ^"^ «^e'8 got corns in her feet 
 the whole journey, an' aU the time he owns the winner 
 Lauzanne, see?— buys him before they go out. Then 
 lAngdon thinks The Dutchman's the goods, an' buys 
 him at a fancy price-gives a bale of long goods for him 
 — I ve got It straight that he parted with fifteen thou- 
 sand. Then the gentleman owner. Honest John, turns 
 the tnck with Lucretia, an' makes The Dutchman look 
 like a sellin' plater." 
 
 *1 guess Langdonai feel pretty sick," hazarded num- 
 ber three. 
 
 *1'd been watchin' the game," continued the wine- 
 
 [73] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 ?*?/ "•?' 'x^'' I «" » move t<hd«y froni the wise gm 
 
 aa«e mmed „ he listened ; dS how L,id^\^^t 
 
 t„,T?, *V" """ ^'"'^ «»«y to foUow K,me new 
 
 ttrongh the n«rrow i««,ge which led to the paddudt 
 There he encountered Langdon p«iaucic. 
 
 ^e^didn't run . veiy g«Hi horee, rir,» b^ tt, 
 
 i^eS'^ei^S^'.^iJ"' '"-' "-^ «" 
 .pol^'c'^^ce"* ^'" '""^ ^»' '^a' 
 «u|»r^'^'Zte^ "-^ ««Pt in . 
 hpM w*^K*'*x**^ °* "*y^^>" growled Lanrfon. '*If 
 
 Jttes a fiiend cf mine, and needed a win badlv T^n 
 not exactly his father confessor, bnt J^ Ms b Je? 
 
 '7wlr^*w^?- ^*^«o easy for the present- 
 
 ^:i:^l:^i;^-ii:^^i£?^:2 
 
 [74] 
 
vn 
 
 POBTEB was an easy man with his horses. Though he 
 could not afford, because of his needs, to work oiU his 
 theory that two-yearH>lds should not be raS yet he 
 uhhzed It as far as possible by running theTat Wr 
 intervals than was general. ^^ 
 
 son'^'^^L' ^Mn' "**^' S^ *^^* °°*« "^o'e this sea- 
 son, hetoldDuon. *T^e babes can't cut teeth at,i1 
 
 STi,'^^ J^};!i* °^* ^° P^"^«^^"^ ^^^- dusty W 
 and hard-sheUed oats, when they ought to be pi^ld^J 
 
 g^s in an open field. She's too^good a beasVto' dTS^ 
 m her young days. The Assassins made good threl 
 y^r-olds, and the little mare's dam, Maid^ W 
 wasn't much her first year oul^nly Von onc^^f^ 
 8 three^ear-old she won three out of four starts an" 
 aiefourth year never lost a race. Lucretia oS to ?e 
 a grea mare next year if I lay her by early thfaiaLn 
 
 K' ""/ 2;?> "' '^^^"^ »* GravLnd^imd sS 
 
 headed weTl just fit her into the softest spot" ^ 
 
 Wftat about Lauzanner asked the Trainer *«!'« 
 
 afraid he's a bad horse." AT»mer, lm 
 
 **Howishedoing?" 
 
 oZti' '^;j''' ' ^^ ^-^--'t ^^- -p hi. 
 
 the'^ife ^/n;l5^"^5j^^^ "^^^ '^^ ^^'^^ took 
 
 tlie life out of him. That sort of thing often settles » 
 
 soft-hearted horse for aU time " * 
 
 «I don't think it was the race, sir," Dixon repUed; 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 m. «np.; you'd think lJi^ns^\fi^ ""' 
 
 •'A'm.'r:^^'a'St* >" "^^ Sorter. 
 "Jed off. g„"'.^ ^°»* » t'o-y^f-oW ought to be 
 
 hJtoto^/""' "«'"'' "-^^ • l^'k. '^r .«d Dixon. 
 
 once /L « i' St h *^i * """« '«"» » "»» 
 
 him. but bouri.* hZ *"y ""P«<*<»>-<lidn't want to see 
 I went toX .LmTJ "i y' r ' " *' "'««'• Wh» 
 Andy-he wJd"d & J'ST'* '".'«"'• 
 kick .bout hiB not ,t»% L.?^dn't" '^ * 
 
 woI^Vd^i^'^^"^ „^-™';» ■? ^ced sight 
 j^ ,, «a none , lieTI cost more trym' to win with 
 
 '^V^^^'W'"' ■"" •» -> 8«"op . bit-', 
 them." ""-1° too fond 0/ them to poison 
 
 try"\l\t^r tt" TL'i*' '^' ^1 '«"" 8i™ him . 
 senin' »cene:it r^?» ^""""^ P""^' "^ » • 
 
 he.7in^X"^rr.s^^:i?Sittrii^^-;- 
 
 f76] 
 
 all we've got ready/ 
 
CHAPTER SEVEN 
 
 «AU right, Dixon," Porter replied. «It may be that 
 we ve broke our bad luck with the little mare " 
 
 They were standing in the paddock during this con- 
 versation. It was in the forenoon; Dixon had come 
 over to the Secretary's office to see about some entries 
 before twelve o'clock. When the Trainer had finished 
 
 ,T'fl S'?^\*vf *^'° ""^^ "^^^^ *"o« the course and 
 in-field to Stable 12, where Dixon had his horses. As 
 they passed over the "Withers Course," as the circular 
 
 Uit^ "^^^^ ^"""^ ^^^^ ^"^ *^® ^P ''*" ^^ ^°^e' 
 
 «,-o"^*V ?rf.l *^y *^^" h« ^^^' speaking remi- 
 
 ?hir.iV."i ?'* ""? ^°""^ theresettles more horses 
 than ^e last fifty yards of the finish; it seems to make 
 
 !.^w ?^ 'e^^ember that the/re runnin' when they 
 
 t^!~ \ ' ? ^'' ^"1?"^ '^''P- ^ ^^ ^"Wo'll ouit right 
 there, he's done it three or four times." * 
 
 "He was the making of a great horse as a two-year- 
 old, wasn't he, Andy?" ^ 
 
 K„r? «?^ 1*1^ * ^°°^ P"^ ^°' ^°»' i^ *at'8 any line; 
 
 fJlf o 1 ^^.?r' ""^^ °° «^- I* do^'t matter how 
 fast a horse is if he won't try " 
 
 Poir "^4^"^ Diabloll be a good horse yet," mused 
 Porter- TTou can't make a slow horse gaUop, but 
 
 t?^ V^^"^ °' """^^ » **°"«'« tempir by kind 
 treatment. I've noticed that a squealing pii «^erSv 
 runs like the devil when he takes it iThi? hea^'^^ 
 Thablo s a squealing pig if there ever was' one," 
 growled Dixon. ' 
 
 iJ^Z T^i^ *^* ^^^ '**^^^' "^^' *« if hy a mutual 
 instmct, the two men walked on till they stood in from 
 of Uuzanne's stall. 
 "He's a good enough looker, ain't he?" commented 
 
 [77] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 though the old one ™b./^,."f'" •"«" "V^ 
 Suburb™ with JSX. ™t^- ,^,««'"'»"*« 
 
 ■wond in the BpooS J .1! . " '^•"^ He ww 
 
 none of the g.n^S'»" ^ «°"' t^ «»« «•» « Jl, „' 
 
 oourae he'« .ick fm™ *i. j it— won't tiy a jart. Of 
 
 you're . ciSnteS •flhl^'™""' "Y*" ^iS 
 •tend yoz a d^k jw i !r* ■/ T *" '""■ »»» ^ 
 
 ''J0»winp'„p,«j;i^;7^^^y <^tf' '»-™™''' •»' 
 
 I««2«nnedidnotan«wer_i?.;_ v 
 is doubtful if hi, ,^j „!^" ' '7^ horsee have. It 
 
 That neither S,r^iri ^^ "" '""«<>'^ "» 
 
 understood 4nrk>^L^^°"',n *"" J"***' ^' 
 ly enough to in.Wue^tail^:!''^' *"!' "PP^^in-te- 
 sentment. TherhT?-^ ^™'"' *» "•« hie w- 
 
 of hi. diie^'^^'s;':,™ t^™ r '^r*^"^ 
 
 to train him intelliOTiX TW*^ him a fair show, 
 'ire, Laaarone, h^TZA'^^ *^' ^ 
 he was a etayer, not riven^'^' • « **^ *"«»' that 
 anne-e dun, Bri^-brS Tae ?.^"S*^- ^^«' ^^ 
 hotter at a »ii^«d..^7S4"l:'fSr5^"-''' ^ 
 
CHAPTER SEVEN 
 
 Jbong but d»«i.h^t .XtSrin^iLT 
 
 belief. "•* »t an diare tbe Tnuner-. 
 
 ^ 1 m not sure," continued the Banker '*h,,f fi,o+ i. 
 »g rtaok Porter witb Uyza„„e, .r'il^VX C 
 
 L I " J 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 Jia^^"^.^"^ " Cnuie h.d p<>t been quite » 
 
 give tnat stable any pointers • Porfpr ni,i- ,•* *^ *"'»«« 
 straight that the hJ^ hid bU^tel^"!/* *^ "^ ^^''^ 
 
 '^d iSi^^'go^l^ hTu!:: '^"^^ ^°^^ ^-- 
 
 S « ht said . ?^r "P|flf ^ *" ^'"«' "^^ j»« 
 
 ^ lii^nl . i! ,^°'*f probably won't take your ad- 
 
 !w w ® J^ ^^^ that— that— Lauzanne reoni^ 
 special treatment, he won't indulge him-he'^ J^a S^ 
 of old-fashioned ideas about racW. So you ^ L„ 
 «amie is a bad betting proposition."^ ^ "^ ^''■ 
 
 *!, u^ Wdon had left Crane's thoughts dwelt «n 
 the subject they had just discussed. ^ ^* **" 
 
 Iv hST * ^•°^^v " P**^* *»' ^ew Lau2anne is certain- 
 l^o^T* }' °»^> "^«* the pubUc ,^ ^ 
 inS^^'^^^^- ^d whafs biid for ^1^° 
 IS good for the layers ; I must see Faust." 
 
 CrZ*'1.r^ * ?tL '°'*^® * ''»~^ to ^at Lauzanne" 
 
 expression, no matter what the occasion. 
 
 [80] 
 
CHAPTER SEVEN 
 
 Ton don't own ha now. do vou ■!»>»' k. ki ^ ^ 
 out, with unthinking .^ndor ^ * ^ "■'*^ 
 
 'Idonot." 
 
 ^figure. Mmetime. lie," commented C«ne. 
 a^e^r hudicapper tip. him to win." 
 
 to 1^ hi '»' '* '^' ■" ""* "^« P'«^ tke fl.W 
 
 »KrT°5 *««L'»n»'»«i»d that day, Mr. F.uit- „ .„ 
 g.trtiri'^tr'"-* «» "^"-^.i't .Se Chertnut 
 
 -K^^'-.-^'pi^ior-''^"' 
 
 The Cherub waited for an ex^anation of these «.» 
 
 gj9^etd^i^M"feHE" 
 
 ^, Md encountered . pair of penetnittogTrKS" 
 
 to "r;«?forti/3"'L^, ""'li "j^^""^ ^ 
 
 ^ lor ms race. He knew the horse's moods- 
 [81] ' 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 tiie wdk of the ChMtnut wm the indiffepent itnll of a 
 
 ^J5u*^** ^ ***^°^^ ®»ly «' W« dinner. ' "^^ ®' * 
 
 Thej've giren him nothing," the Bimker mntiMr^ 
 
 p ^^i\'^. heevy-heSed brute i«S?V^» !Sf 
 
 'JJi^'^m'S! *^ *~y ''*«''» '^'^ *"- to ride iS JT' 
 
 The wW.1^ thtt Dixon had .urrepUtioSy rfTen 
 
 Uuxanne had been at ineiBcaciou. a. io much gW 
 
 bustle and daah of the .triving hone. a. quickly a. hJ 
 ^«; • ° 7**° i^,i«*«y ««^ whip and tpur; Lau! 
 
 S .r^^^ P;' ^Z*" *^*^> •^teJ**^ hia'^taU.ind 
 loafed along, a dozen lengths behind his field. 
 
 b J \i V*^**"* ^f °^* "P * "*^« «' *^ l««t ground, 
 f1 ^-iT" *'^ll ^"^^ f ' ^ °»^°«y •* the finish 
 m^r.1^ ?* •"? *^r **** ^~ " h« »»»d for man; 
 
 [8«] 
 
vm 
 
 »»«»ood to, K^ W Uken h., horn, back to 
 « tSm wh^Tk- 1 fTwtahoiu, there come* to him 
 
 ta^tSrh,^„i;?»Lfj.'"'^'« •>«"• "»» "" 
 
 gWOTe of hia eiiitovT tV^« "™' f«»«gli the 
 
 the liaster of mngw^ "" **' disappomtmente to 
 
 He tried C^etw^^eTX^^^^^^^ "^°* ^«- 
 
 thoroughly gourcd Nbw h« • ^ ?^*""* •^'^^^ 
 • dark cloud of ^debiZL-t " ^"^^ ** Bingwood, 
 pJtce, and pi^p^t of^?/ ^«?«f o^e' the beautifu 
 Wintered i^ffi Iw l^S '^/^^'^V I' I^'^e^ti. 
 tricate him from hifS^J^ti^^ J*^^^ °^«^* «^- 
 of the biff races th fnn«^ ^ winning one or tiro 
 the othef hi^ tW r°*^ T^"'- ^^'^t «"y of 
 promise^ **'"'' ''" "^^^ «^«» this much of 
 
 Thoroughly distrusting Lauzanne ^hin^r^A k i.. 
 cowardice. Porter had ^J^ ^ ' ®°»°*ttered by his 
 
 l 08 J 
 
r-y 
 
 THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 the son of Lazzarone; it may have been because of the 
 feeling that she was indirectly responsible for his pres- 
 MJce at Bingwood. Allis Porter's perceptions had been 
 developed to an extraordinary degree. All her life she 
 had lived surrounded by thoroughbreds, and her sensi- 
 tive nature went out to them, in their courage and loyal- 
 ty, in a maimer quite beyond possibility in a practical, 
 routine-following horseman. To her they were almost 
 human; the play of tJ-eir minds was as attractive and 
 mteresting as the development of their muscles was 
 to a trainer. When the stable had been taken back 
 to Bingwood, she had asked for Lauzanne as a ridinir 
 iiorse. , " 
 
 '*I'm going to give him away," her father had repUed; 
 I can t sell him— nobody would buy a brute with such 
 a reputation." This word brought to Porter's mind his 
 chief cause of resentment against the Chestnut. The 
 pubUc having got into its head that Porter was playing 
 coup», generously suggested that he was pulling Lau- 
 zanne to get him in some big handicap light. 
 
 **I won't feed such a skate all winter," he declared 
 anpily, after a little pause. 
 
 ^ **WeU, give him to me, father," the girl had pleaded; 
 *I am certain that hell make good some day; you'll 
 see that hell pay you for keeping your word." 
 
 As Allis rode Lauzanne she discovered many things 
 about the horse; that instead of being a stupid, morose 
 brute, his inteUigence was extraordinary, and, with her 
 at least, his temper perfect. 
 
 Allis's relationship with her father was unuroal. 
 ^ey wore chums; in aU his trouble, in aU his moments 
 of wavering, buffeted by the waves of disaster, Allis was 
 the one who cheered him, who regirt him in his armor 
 
 [84] 
 
CHAPTER EIGHT 
 
 -Allis, the BUght oUve-faoed Utile woman, ^..a ^^b 
 big, fearless Joan-of-Arc eyes. ' ^ 
 
 cneemy. You U win with Lucretia as often as you did 
 wiUi her mother; and TU win with Lauzanne WU 
 just keep quiet till spring, then we'll shoHS^m " 
 
 Onivesend, .teW'^^n C a^C Sfral* 
 ^TZd^hi^." '^r'^'-' ^ the Master^;^": 
 ^^,^L^ ^'^^'^' He had won a fairS 
 ra^ ^th IJe Dutchman-ostensibly Langdon's hJ^ 
 and then, holding true to his nature, IS w^^ 
 ^ en sbwly, threw him out of training and deliWate^ 
 ly planned a big coup for the next year. The cdt wL en 
 gaged in several three-year-old stakes, ^d cC Z 
 Langdon to work to find out his capabilities As hL 
 
 TZTS"^'^' ^' ^°^^^ '^'"^ ^ a^veiSal gJll^ 
 the true Hanover staying-power ^ ^ 
 
 he^° h?? ?T' ^i ""i? °"*^°« '^^^^ i* »t the time, 
 ™. '^^ ^ eye on the Eastern Derby when he r3 
 nj^sioned Langdon to purchase this gaJant ^n o S^. 
 over. It was a long way ahead to look, to lav nlan.^ 
 ™ a race the following June, but that wL Se^^^ 
 ^ Ws existence, careful planning. He lo^H 
 He was a master at it. And, after 5l riven 11^^' 
 
 •rh^ run of the Derby left less to chance than any^Ser 
 •Wee he could have pitched upon; the result ^uW dJ 
 ^nd absolutely upon the class and stamina of the hor^ 
 
 l^n^ f'lr'^^ ^P^* *^^ calculations, no l^Set^: 
 £irj^ J?' race could destroy his horse's chanT'f 
 be were good enough to win. The Dutchman's r!^ i 
 
 [85] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 a two-yearold would not warrant his being made a 
 favonte, and Langdon, properly directed, was clever 
 enough to see that The Dutchman was at a comfortable 
 price for betting purposes. 
 
 i*^"2,.*^*' *^ crowded into this year of Crane's 
 Me. The bank, doing but a modest business always 
 was ronning so smoothly that it required Uttle attention 
 from the owner. This was one reason why he had thrown 
 so much subtle energy into his racing; its speculation 
 appealed to him. The plucking he had received as a 
 moneyed youth rankled in his heart The possession of 
 such a faithful jackal as Langdon carried him to greater 
 lengths than he would«have gone had the obnoxious de- 
 tails been subject to his own execution. Though con- 
 scienceless, he was more or less fastidious. Had a horse 
 broken down and become utterly useless, he would have 
 ordered him to be destroyed without experiencing any 
 feeling of compassion— he would have dismissed the 
 matter entirely from his mind with the passing of the 
 command ; but rather than destroy the horse himself, he 
 probably would have fed him. And so it was with men. 
 If they were driven to the waU because of his plans, that 
 was there own look out; it did not trouble Philip Crane 
 
 ^v i'*!',^^®, ^^ ^®^ "™P^y ^ » business way. From 
 the first he had felt that Bingwood would pass out of its 
 owner's possession, and he had begun to covet it The 
 Lauzanne race had been Langdon's planning altogether. 
 Crane, cold-blooded as he was, would not have robbed 
 a man he had business dealings with deliberately. He 
 had told his trainer to win, if possible, a race with Lau- 
 amne. Mid get rid of him. That Langdon's villainoas 
 flcheme had borne evil fruit for John Porter was purely 
 a matter of chance selection. There was a Mephi^ 
 
 [86] *^ 
 
CHAPTER EIGHT 
 
 tq^hdian restitution in not striTing to wmt the EdinM 
 from Lucretia with The Dutchman. ^ 
 
 And now, in tWi year, had come the entirely new ex- 
 penence of an affection-his admiration for Allie For- 
 ter. It conflicted with every other emotion that irov- 
 ^ed his being AU hi. uie he had been selfish-4)n- 
 
 f^ K ?K^*^P ^?^"' ^ °^d nnharrassed by 
 anything but busmess obstacles in his ambitious career 
 Love for this quiet, self^ntained girl, unadomerby 
 Jjaything but the truth, and honest?^ iid fearSfn^ 
 
 lof S ^^ "^1^ "" '^'^^^ ^^'^ «^at completely 
 mastered him. By a mere chance he had heard Allis 
 giye her recitation, "The Bun of Crusader/' in the little 
 ^urch at BrooMeld. Crane was not an'a^o2,l2? 
 he had mte^ted himself little in church Otters; .md 
 theHeverend ^Ws concert, that was meant ti top 
 
 tT?^^'^ ""^ ^^^* *^* ^«'« «^ol^« the church, 
 had churned him simply because an evening in bS 
 field had come to hang heavily on his hands 
 Now when the Beverend Dolman received Philip 
 
 pme by attnbutmg the gift to his own special pleaZg 
 that wemng, of course backed up by Provid^oe If 
 ^^ ^i^^ **^* ^^ mainspring of the gifi had 
 b«n the wicked horse-racing poem of their denundation 
 ^ 5f.i3? * ^^ ^ Bcandaliaed and full of righteous 
 
 denied that Alliss poem had inspired him to the check; 
 but nevertheless it had. ' 
 
 h J^«r5^ ^' feeling and sympathy and goodness that 
 
 had hung m h«r voice had set a new wind^ in his ionl 
 
 [87] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 I2?i^^ i^*^ '^^^ •^^ **^* «^«» ^» nwnthi 
 ArZt^'^iS* ^7"^^* ''•' ^^'^y beginning to Bti«am 
 through. When love conies to a man at forty he ia apt 
 to play the game yeiy badly indeed; he turns it into a 
 very anxious business, and moves through the lidit-triD- 
 
 S!ir?rpv/?' ^ ^"^*^° ^^^ «' '^'^^ 
 S^r^*i.w^*^P^'?°®'^""^*«i^«^ to making mis- 
 takes; he knew that, like Crusader, "His bestLing 
 days (in the love stakes) were over^'-espedally wh^ 
 the woman was but a girl So he sat down and planned 
 it aU out as he pknned to win the Brooklyn Derby 
 months later. And aU the time he was as siioerely ij 
 love as if he had blundered into many f oolishneies • 
 but his love making was to be diplomatic. Even now aU 
 ^e gods of Fate stood ranged on his side; AUis's brother 
 was in his bank, more or less dependent upon him: 
 Bi^gwooditeelfwasallbutinthebank; he stSod fairly 
 weU with John Porter, and much better with AlUs*; 
 2f?2' 'o' «^y he had b^gun to ingratitate himself 
 inth Mrs. Porter. He would cast from the shoulders of 
 the Beverend Dohnan a trifle more of the load he was 
 carfying. He would send the reverend gentleman an- 
 other check. 
 
 Why he should think it necessary to prepare his soit 
 with ao much subtlety he hardly knew; in ^Treason he 
 Should be considered a fair match for Allis Porter He 
 WM not a bad man as the world understood him; he 
 did not profess Christianity, but, on the otiier himd. 
 his life was extremely respectable; he did not drink; he 
 was not given to profane language; even in racimr his 
 presence seemed to lend an air of respectabilihrto the 
 ^rt. and it was gweraUy supposed that he raced pure- 
 ly for relaxation. In truth, it seemed to him that hie 
 
 [88J 
 
CHAPTER EIGHT 
 
 manage with Allis would be a deuced good thinir for 
 the Porters. * 
 
 In actuality there were just two things that stood in 
 the way—two things which his position and wealth could 
 not obviate— his age, and the Porter pride. If Porter 
 had not been dubbed "Honest John" early in life he 
 mjght have been saddled with "Proud Porter" later' on 
 ITie pnde had come up out of old Kentucky with all 
 the other useless things-the horse-radng, and the in- 
 ability to make money, and the fancy for keeping a 
 pronuse. Something whispered to Crane that ^is 
 would never come to him simply out of love; it might be 
 regard, esteem, a desire to please her parents, a bow- 
 mg to Je evident decree of fate. Perhaps even the very 
 difficulty of conquest made Crane the more determined 
 to wm, and madi him hasten slowly. 
 
 [89] 
 
4i • rale few Tiriton mnt to Biiigwaod. 
 
 hi. tSLfl!?'.'^ "^ •«" ^*'"^ in hi. horn, .ad 
 to. home life to cue anich for McJal nuitten ^T 
 
 p,™* ?!P^' ?^ *^">« •**«»ch«d to the stiff «t 
 B^ood ^ winter « a «,rt of «aistanrtr^ S 
 ^T^ ^ only tramed the Bingwood horses duriiS 
 the racing seMon Porter always snperrising thm^ 
 
 IS. ^* ^^t ^ **■* i*" »i°i«*er Sifluenoe <m 
 
 ^^n l-^urT"^^ '^' «»« masterTlC 
 jw>d , certam it 13 that the autumn found him quite^n 
 
 SS^^'.*/? amngem^t was made by which Mike's 
 ^Ttt^^ ''*'* ^^ ** Bingwoci, and hetook 
 2? ^ iS*^ '*^°«"- '^^ delighted Ami, for she h2 
 
 rrA«« ^ ^ ^**' '*'**'^^* *^« ^tors to Bingwood- 
 Crane who came quite often, and Mortime^^t 
 
 •"**^*^« i*"° * ~^P^« 0' times with Alan. 
 
 Geoige Mortimer might be described as an ammlar 
 ymiginan. Hi. face, la^featured, square-J^wSfSj 
 
olemnity 
 
 CHAPTER NINE 
 
 Wd-topped lij broad foivhead, tnggetted the 
 AUnhadfoondiotiyiiig. Of course » young man of hit 
 
 places in hi8 timber. That was why he had reasoned wiA 
 ^"t:.'^ -ergeticyUy grasjing hi. ^K 
 ywdng that worthy gentleman had expressed himself io 
 di^fuUy over Allis Porter's c^ntZ^tolT^^ 
 er^d Dohnan's concert. Perhaps a young man of more 
 •nbUe greoe would have receivedi^me g^t^rec^ 
 
 !SL^ 7f ^ Mortimer was concerned; Alan tried to 
 refer to it afterward, but had been curtly stoDoed 
 
 Geojge Mortimer's chief notion wasX wSf was a 
 gr«t thing, ««mingly the chief end of man InoSeJ 
 notaon almost equally prominent-he had derivS iJ 
 «^^ Tff^'"^> that all form, of gamKei 
 
 ^'^^\^^^°^-.^"* "^d foremostTtlS^in^ 
 dirtion stood hor»B racing. The touch of it that W 
 
 ^J T^ifl^ ^''' ^ ®~«M«W hori«>r^1i! 
 ipired Mrs. Mortimer, a. it had other good DeoDW *?• 
 
 STSS r^^' T*^ ^'^ ^rtrictSTdT^tl^ 
 I^b^ t"^^ thoroughbred horse, were rimS^ 
 gamW^s-bett^ people. Her home wa. in Emers^. 
 a doaen miles from Brookfleld "-"wwin, 
 
 -^^r^^"^!:.^ ^ ^'"^^ had not giTen 
 . 5^,.o' ^^'^^^er'^— most certainly a racimr n«» 
 -Hmttie little church, this angular yo,!linS^ 
 Jtnngent ideas about running horses probaWTwoSd 
 ^Jr'.J^^*^ K^oo^Someth^gTtiie ^^e 
 SJ^^*rS^*^ ^"^ ^«' ~ «h! told of ^ 
 S2fi '*'^'i~* '*"*'^ ^to his strong mi^ i^d 
 there commenced to creep into his thought, a^dd". 
 
 ' * J 
 
 m 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 ITJ^' •«»'*.»' 8»t«i»0M pity that Bhe ihoidd bt 
 inextricably mued up with race hones. Hii oriolaal 
 honeity of thought and the narrowneis of hig tuition 
 were apt to make him egotiaticaUy sun that the thinn 
 Wion *« J»i°» M being right were incapaWebf 
 
 At first he had liked Alan Porter, with no tremendous 
 amount of unbending; now, beoause of the interest 
 AUis had excited in him, the liking began to take on a 
 supemsoiT fom, and it was not without a touch of 
 irritation in his voice that Alan informed his sister that 
 he fad acquired a second father, and with juvenile 
 maUgmty attributed the mcumbrance to her seduetive 
 influence. 
 
 With aU these cross purposes at work it can be readily 
 understood that Mortimer's visits to Bingwood were nc^ 
 exactly rose-leaved. In truth, the actors were aU too 
 conventionally honest, too unsocialized, to subvert their 
 nnderlying motives. Allis. with her fine intuition, 
 l^^llT \°f^^^ Mortimer's disapprobation 5 
 racing-though he awkwardly strove to hide it-even if 
 ianhad not enlarged upon this point. This knowledge 
 constrained the girl, even drove her into rebelUon. She 
 took his misunderstanding as a fault, almost as a weak- 
 ness, and shocked the young man with carefuUy pre- 
 pared racmg expressions; reveled with strange aUndon 
 m telks of gallops, and trials, and work-outs, and 
 breathers: threw iron-mouthed horses, pullers, skates 
 and divers other equine wonders at his head until h^ 
 revolted m suUen irritation. In fact they misunder- 
 stood each other finely; in truth their diflferent natures 
 were more^ hannony two miles apart, the distance 
 that lay between the bank and Bingwood. 
 
CHAPTER NINB 
 
 By eompariioa Cnme'i ridti to Ringwood inra 
 ntopianly complacent. Strangely enough, Mn. Porter, 
 oppoaed to racing aa she waa. came qnite readily nnder 
 the glamor of hia artiatic nnobtrasiveneaa. He had com- 
 plete mastery over the science of waiting. Hi» admission 
 to the good lady of a passing interest in horses waa an 
 apology; there seemed such an ntter abaence of the 
 betting spirit that the recreation it afforded him con- 
 doned the offense. 
 
 There was this difference between the two men, the 
 old and the young: Crane knew exactly why he went 
 there, while Mortimer had asked himself more than 
 once, coming back from Bingwood feeling that he had 
 beai misunderstood— perhaps even laughed at— why he 
 had gone there at all. He had no definite plan, even 
 desire; he was impelled to it out of some unrecognixed 
 force. It was because of these conditions that the one 
 potter turned his images so perfectly, and the other 
 formed only poor, distorted, often broken, dishes of 
 mferior day. 
 
 It stood in the reason of things, however, that Mor- 
 tmwr, in spite of his uncompromising attitude toward 
 racing, should be touched by its tentacles if he visited 
 at Bingwood. 
 
 His first baptism came with much precipitancy on the 
 occasion of his fourth visit to the Porters. He had 
 driTOn out with Alan to spend his Saturday afternoon 
 at Bingwood. An afternoon is not exactly like an 
 CTening in the matter of entertaining a guest; some- 
 thing must be done; cigars, or music, or small chatter 
 Me msufficient. If one is on the western slope of life's 
 Sierra perhaps a nap may kill the time profitably 
 enough^ but this was a case where a young man had to 
 
 [98] 
 
.- ! 
 
 THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 ttM«r Um oionniftanoef. w»»«iuiiwii 
 
 t«t!r^«^ ■one bwbaiou. eipedition of jurenile In- 
 
 ^1 i;r»ir • «~"»^<«' i« • b«* field; bu SlU 
 
 M^the .port of the tiling. She hud . much hrttof 
 f^?S^\°^P'!? ""* '°' Mortimer. Bomew^Z 
 
 ^^mJ^^\rt^ tho«,.ghbred ho«e.l?'tlS 
 Ktu^ oonld come to know them indiriduaUy, omiuUv 
 
 ^rm l^^i.^ "^A**^ *^ woodchuck or gmTdW 
 riui J?/^ ^ ^^''^ 7*°* to go and km tnS« 
 ^M^ turmng gratefully to Mortimer when hTfl 
 
 tt the horses, 'qoi .how you Diablo, and Lucretia and 
 Lau«nne the Djepised-he's my hoie, and I^' ^ 
 
 iabfes^rSl'^^'^y^^'-. ^^y^oVisdo^^^ 
 wawes, and ITl give you a tip^-Mortimer winced— 
 
 ^ you want to stand weU in with Mike^S^iT^S^ 
 that you're fond of horses." ^'^ 
 
 ua^v*!LJ!!!!!?!,l!^i****^°*"*^«®*7»<>'. Mike 
 Mna% 7«ciUated between a condition of chronic ans^ 
 at somebody or something, and an Irish d^^ 
 
 ij^peopewho were sick at heart ku3^ ^]S^^ 
 Wur wi^his mood. a. ri» was id^ thH^ 3 
 ^ranne»s temper. On Mike's face was a maVSX 
 aster; the diMster might be triyial or great iSt «imt 
 
 h^^ ^"i was dead, or that a mouse had eatTa 
 
 hole 1. a gram bag she could only discover bTqiSSn! 
 
 l M J 
 
CHAPTER NINB 
 
 •ee good colt. ■paedT?he^ tSL^i,!^^L^^ ^ 
 
 hMwrif, thin he', mittook, thtf , aU '' "''^ 
 
 ;;j!Joi. it Mike-Shandy r 
 ♦1.* K **■ **"!?' ^"•- ^«'» the dinl on wheels huiiri.' 
 
 iiJSs.7,:s^r' "**-^ *w h..i-g thri, 
 
 th^handy off hind-foot ar hi. P' "" •'"^ "^ »'d 
 
 umiugn. Miter, he contuiood, puttiag hi» «nii -ith 
 nlBl Mck. "Come here, onld girl " he t^iiT^J^ 
 
 te ,SS?T«^"' T**^ i"*^ •' "» •>* "Portable 
 »« ttall^ Uttered a foot deep with bright dean, ^ow 
 
 *.w. How contented «,d « home th? niare^Sl 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 It Noned alnoit • ooBpl«te noompeuM, this tttmiifv 
 ctw, for the cruel^r he iHugined race home luflend. 
 'Ton don't tie her up r he aeked 
 
 w/^^f ^.Sr ^^r^^ Mike, t fine Celtic ■«>« in 
 hk Toioe; *Td nther tie up t wifin-i/ I had one« he 
 added by way of extenuaUon. "No man would tie up • 
 mare worth tin thouaand dollars if she's worth a omt. 
 an take chances a? her throwin' hersilf in the halter- 
 af coorse slw's hitched fer a bit after a gaUop while she^s 
 havin' a rub^own, but that's all." •*'""• •**■ 
 Lucretia's black nozxle came tiikidly forward, and the 
 .i!®*?*y ^PP®' "P "nnggled Allis's cheek. 
 She knows ye, Miss,'f said Mike. "That's the way 
 wit* horses-they're like children; they know friends 
 an' ye can t fool thim. Now she's siain'yeT iSSr? 
 tsLucretia sniffed suspiciously at Mortimer's chli. 
 keeirfng a wary eye jn him. "She'U know if ye like 
 oaST'" ■*^*» ^' I'd ^«ck her opinion agin fifty min's 
 
 Allis watched with nervous interest the inrestigiition. 
 She ahnost felt that if Lucretia liked her commSon- 
 weu, it would be something less to dislike in him, at all 
 events. Lucretia seemed turning the thing over in her 
 mmd, trying to think it out. There was some mystery 
 about this new comer. Evidently she did not distrust 
 him entirely, else she would have put her ears back a 
 tnAe and turaed away with a Kttle impatient waning 
 shake of her delicate head. She always turned in that 
 crow manner from Shandy, the stable boy. She had 
 also discovered that the visitor was not completely a 
 h^ri«nto; she did not investigate his pockets, nor put 
 her head over his shoulder, as she would have done with 
 MI. Porter or Mike, or even with one who was a 
 
 [96] 
 
CHAPTER NINE 
 
 itraniw, M wtt MortiiiMr. had the felt the uunitttk. 
 
 .wr£5' U?*T ^^'°^' ' ^'*"'* ^~»y " Mortimer .n- 
 iwend. Imt I knoir reiy little about them-nothinir 
 ■boot race honee." * 
 
 ^^^^^ "^ looked diipamgingly «t the Tiiitor. 
 
 I^tt man ihould know nothing of thoronghbredi wai 
 Perfectly inexplicable to Gaynor. He knew many racing 
 ^JT.^^^ **' hoh^flesh wa. a subject for 
 ridicule, but then they never proclaimed their ignorance, 
 ratter poMd ai good judges than otherwise. 
 'TW.'"* ■*'f2^* inconfistency Mike explained: 
 
 2l ♦k'"'«i*^ '"^ » '^ ^ ini. Would y. like to 
 SS:.^a?L-ngnre:"^^ 1^ -ided, tuning to 
 
 theTX^^ i^rtfext^JSir ^"^ *^ ^^^'^^^ *^- 
 
 'Thaf s a useful horse," explained the Trainer : 'Ws 
 won some races in his time." ' 
 
 "Whafs his namer asked Mortimer. 
 
 himfTt^'r ^''^ '^ *'^ '''^'^' ^« — »-' 
 
 re^ JuSfei'''^ *° """'^ *"** '^ '''^'* ^^"« 
 
 *That*B stamnge," commented Mike, turning the hist 
 
 bay about mth evident pride; 'Tie won the *Belmont/ 
 
 hLrf~rthI?» ' *^' """^^ •^'"«»^- ^" "»"* »^ 
 
 [97] 
 
THQUOUOHBBEDS 
 
 Mortimer oompromiiad by Admitting thtt h* had 
 probably foi^tten it. 
 
 "Well, I haven V declared Mike, reproachfully. •Tf 
 Game Boy stands a prep this summer yeOl hear from 
 him," he confided to Mortimer, as they left the stall. 
 "Jist i-emember Game Boyj see, ye can't forgetr-* faig 
 bay wif a white nigh fore leg, an* a bit rat-tailed. Yea, 
 Game Boy's aU right," monologued Mike; **but here's 
 a better; this is DUblo. He must have tabasco in his 
 head, fer he's got the divU's own timper. But he can 
 gallop a bit; he can go like a quarter-horse, an' sUy 
 till the cows come home; but he's like Lauzanne acrost 
 yonder, he's got a bee ih his bonnet an' it takes a diril 
 to ride him." 
 
 "Thaf 8 hard on me, Mike," expostulated Allis. "You 
 see, Lauzanne goes better with me in the saddle than 
 any of the boys," she exphuned to Mortimer. 
 
 "The divil or angels, I was going to say. Miss, when 
 ye interrupted me," gallantly responded Mike. 
 
 Diablo's head was tied high in a comer of the stall, 
 for Shandy, the boy, was hard at work on him with a 
 double hand of straw, rubbing him down. The boy 
 Irept up a peculiar whistling noise through his parted 
 lips as he rubbed, and Diablo snapped impatiently at the 
 halter-shank with his great white teeth as though he 
 resented the operation. 
 
 Mortimer gazed with enthusiasm at the shining black 
 sjrin that glistened like satin, or watered silk. Surely 
 there was excuse for people loving thoroughbreds. It 
 was an e^diilaration even to look at that embodiment of 
 physical development. It was an animate st ' to the 
 «cellence of good, clean Uving. Somehow or other 
 Mortimer felt that though the Uving creature before 
 
 £98] 
 
 V 
 
CHAPTER NINE 
 
 r;:^t LTar.;;:^ ^*t?«, ''■^- »' 
 
 t—j~rf 7i!^ " nu «iae uat made bun inToluntarilT in. 
 toject thu cUme into hi. imndiUe thonghu-™ i^ 
 J«n»n «f high n.o«d .ttribute. nughfi^CZ^ 
 KMlthj form of interested amuiement in ».t»i,i- JT 
 wperb development of hoWtST^ deTi^'^ 
 
 ^4^^?? "' "c»g had been in Zitj^l 
 tntored prejudice; he hod looked upon but one oh^ 
 
 w«» hwUy di««tron»-mort immorel. ZterSS 
 
 p;;;;^^i-d ic« „ though h. woJJd dem^iiS^'hi; 
 
 M«^'!''*f l"^ ** •*" J™*" expltined Mike: "he*. 
 
 oath). "Diablo hates that bV an' lome day h^ a1 
 hutt up, mark my words." -^ *" «»™« <»»y h«Tl do 
 
 [90] 
 
THOBOU6HBREDS 
 
 "Here, Shandy," he cried, tmrniiig to the robber, 
 looBe the Blacies head an' turn him 'round." 
 
 Mortimer abnost ahrank with apprehension for the 
 boy, for Diablo's ears were back on his flat, tapering 
 neck, and his c^es looking back at them, were aU whit^ 
 save for the intense blue-shimmered pupil. To Morti- 
 mer that look was the incarnation of evil hatred. But 
 the boy unsnapped the halter-shank without hesitation, 
 and Diablo, more inquie tive than . ^y, came min- 
 cmgly toward them, nodding his nead somewhat 
 defiantly, as mach as to say that the nature of the 
 interview would depend altogether upon their sood 
 behavior. , * 
 
 "See that I" ejaculated Mike, a pleasant smile of sat- 
 isfaction rippling the furrows of his face; "see how he 
 picks out the best friend the stable's got." 
 
 Diablo had stretched his lean head down, and was 
 faying to nibble with gentle lip the carrot Allis held 
 half hidden behind her sLIrt. There was none of 
 Lucreba's timidity in Diablo's approach; it was full 
 of an assumption of equality, of trust in the intentions 
 of ttie stranger who had come with the mistress he had 
 faith in. 
 
 "They're all like that when Miss Allis is about" ex- 
 plained Mike; "there never would be a bad hone if 
 the stable-b'ys worked the same way. Tie him 
 up, Shandy," he added. "Even the jockeys spoU 
 tiieir mounts," Gaynor continued in a monotone; "the 
 horsesll gallop better for women any time— they treat 
 thim gentler, thaf s why." 
 
 "Most interesting," hazarded Mortimer, feeling some 
 acknowledgment of Mike's information was due 
 
 "If s the truf . Miss Mis'd take Lauaanne, or tha 
 
 [100] 
 
CHAPTEBNINE 
 
 Wfok, or the Utile mare, an* iret * h^n^ «. 
 thim than any jock IVe L^ ^ ^xT^ '^ **^* "^ 
 «qi^iCr» 1 Jr*'*/ ^® ■««» ndm' hereabout/' 
 Mike/* exclaimed Allig. **vou flaHi.i. ^-T: i 
 
 Ix« rt.U contained uJZT^^ '' °^P"^ 
 
 «• Iri- pin., ra tOe mnTth to te H^ J^ «"1 
 xme «.m. day, for all I know » ^"""^U do tho 
 
 "Te., Lananne i, m, hone," volnnteered Alii, "r 
 
 t 101 ] * 
 
TH0R0UGHBRSD8 
 
 -X 
 
 «f«n rid« him in ill hii work now, nnoe he took to Mting 
 thf staUe-boj." 
 
 "And yon'M not afnidP* adted Mortinier. 
 
 For aniwer the girl ilipped quietly into the ttall, and 
 going up beside the Gheitnnt, who was standing sidkily 
 with his head in the comer of his box, took him by the 
 Mr and turned him gently around. 
 
 ''He's just a quiet-mannered chap, that's all,** she 
 said. "He's a big, lazy* contented old boy/' and she laid 
 her cheek against his fawnnoolored nozsle. 'Ton see/' 
 she explained, ''he's got more brains than any of the 
 other horses, and when he's abused he knows ii" 
 
 "But he's grateful 'when he's kindly treated,'* com- 
 mented Mortimer. 
 
 "Yes; thafs why I like horses better than men." 
 
 "Oh !" the exclamation slipped from Mortimer's lips. 
 
 "Most men, I mean," s^ explained. "Of course, 
 father, and Alan, and—" she hesitated; '^ou see," she 
 went on to explain, "the number of my men frionds is 
 limited; but except these, and Mike, and Mr. Dixon, I 
 like the horses best." 
 
 "I almost beUeve you're right, Miss Porter," wn- 
 onrred Mortimer ; "I've known men myself that I lancy 
 were much worse than even Diablo." 
 
 'Of ike thinks Lausanne is a bad horse," the girl said, 
 changing the subject, "but he'll win a big race this com- 
 ing season. You just keep your eye on Lauzanne. 
 Here's your carrot, old chap," she sdid, stroking the 
 horse's neck, "and we must go if we're to have that 
 drive. Will you hitch the gray to the buggy for us, 
 Mike?" she asked of Gaynor, as they came out of the 
 stable, "well wait here." 
 
 As Mike started off there came to their ears a sound 
 
 V - 
 
CHAPTER NINE 
 
 of tnnnoil from DUblo's box; impatient kicki againit 
 tbe boards from the hone, and imothered imprecationa 
 from the boy. 
 
 ''Hear that fiend V* the girl exclaimed, and there was 
 wrath in her voice. 
 
 **He does seem a bad horse/* concurred Mortimer. 
 
 1 didn't mean Diablo; it's the boy. It's all his evil 
 doing. Oh, I've only one glove," she exclaimed. **l 
 know where it is, though; that mischievous rascsJ, Lau- 
 sanne, nibbled it from the front of my jacket; I saw 
 him do it, but forgot to pick it up." 
 
 "Allow me. Miss Porter; 111 get it for you." 
 
 "No; please don't I" with emphasis. As he started 
 back, she laid a detaining hand on his arm. *Td much 
 prefer to go myself; Lauzanne distrusts strangers and 
 vdght make trouble." 
 
 As the girl entered the stable, Mortimer sauntered 
 on in the direction Mike had gone. 
 
 AUis opened the door of Lauzanne's stall, passed in, 
 and seardied in the straw for the lost gbve. 
 
 tl08] 
 
Thb noise of strife in Diablo's box had increaMd 
 There came the sound of blows on the horse's ribTa 
 
 the boy, drowned in an instant by the ferocion. baW^ 
 ciy of the enraged stallion. Mortimer, thirty vmS^ 
 
 li:; W^ '*' !S? '''' ^ ^^ BtanTsSlf V?2 
 never heard anything so demoniac in his We. He 
 
 tamed ^Bnch haste that his foot slipped on the^rom 
 earth, and he fell heavily. ^^^ 
 
 iJlJ^i^"» 'fZ^ ^' "^'^ ^'^ ^^ "terted angrily 
 
 Shand/flciyoftemrrangout. For an instant the ^ 
 hesitated; what she saw was enough to makT a sbSS 
 
 SriSfhe h'^%"?'^*^^^^ -as'loo:;"^rh'^e;S 
 mg jawB he had fastened on the arm of Shandy, in the 
 
 she faltered; if ever quick action were needed, it was 
 
 n«?^^"T^^P^^^^' **"^^" «^« ''"ed, as pushing 
 
 ^ ^^ ^°"® between his ears. ^ 
 
 mether it was the sound of his mistress's voice, or 
 
 the staggenng blow. Diablo dropped the boy like a 
 
 crushed rat, and, half rearing, IoSQ viciou^^ Tthe 
 
 "Quick I through the hay window !» commanded AUis 
 
 [104] 
 

 CHAPTER TEN 
 
 ■tending between Shandy and the hone, and drawing 
 
 nT.M^S^n*?'' r'i" *^^ "^^^^«'* «»dy to give it to 
 Diablo fuU in the throat should he charge agaSi 
 
 Cowed, the boy clambered through the opening. En- 
 raged at the Bight of his assailant's esca^, thf ho«^ 
 gave another scream of defiance and sought with strik- 
 ing forefeet and spread jaws to puU down this new 
 enemy Not until then had Allis thought of cXg/oT 
 help; her one Idea had been for the boy's safetyT^ 
 
 Like a flash the full peril of the situation dawned 
 wdr^ perhaps her life would be given for the boy 
 who weU deserved his punishment. She had seen two 
 staUions fight, and knew that their ferocious MtorT 
 once roused, could only be quelled by a force stroW 
 ^ she possessed. Yes, surely she would be killed-her 
 d K ^»?Pl^,«^* »>y the frenzied animal. Inco- 
 rf^u^iL''* *?^«»*^ these thoughts filled her mind: 
 alwthe knowledge that Mike was beyond hearing, 
 '^elp, Mortimer V* she caUed. 
 He h^ it as he reached the stable door.' Even then 
 
 ««r • t^""^ ^"^ *~ ^^ ^ ^°* othe' «8cue come 
 more qmckly. 
 
 hJ?I?^ '^^ Lauzanne's stall Allis had left the 
 
 ^m T^^r 'X^^- ^* *^« ^* ^ 0^ defiance 
 from the bkck stallion Lauzanne had stretched high 
 his head and sent back, with curled nostril, an answer- 
 mgchaU^. Then with ears cocked he had waited for 
 
 tJi^f' "^J^ ""^ ^"^'^y- ^en the nmn^ed 
 caU of his mistress and Diablo's bugle note came to ^ 
 
 ^i,L .^ M *uT'' ^? ""'^^ «^'^«« *»^e P««««ge and 
 
 ^^W .J^*^ • 1^°"" ^^ ^ ^* J^«* «« ^« ^'^ over- 
 powering the girl. 
 
 It was at that instant Mortimer reached the scene-in 
 
 [105] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 AHi.^!^* Even UiiMiiiie»i «tt«:k, though it nn 
 A^t wjpif, would not h«Te ..Ted heJ life ; 1 iJSS 
 
 S'^'r^l.*^ "^ <>' *^ '^^^ Mortiu,.?'^ 
 Once Diiblo'i hoof ihot out and the tnan»m Uf^ .•«. 
 
 a«»Nr like . .wK.'X JttalSrSSteS' 
 
 ftedoiag? Why wu he hmmiering the hone, (X A. 
 
 from his sight. Somer;,J^A,^'^J^td;^ 
 the hones back, back, out of the stall "^ 
 
 mHfn.' J"^' """ ^^*^' ^'^^»«i»« the crop down with 
 Sf35« '^ ^"^ ^^ ^thers7ne?k, head, W^rt 5 
 ^wtt? .?■" ^^'^^ ^' ^^'^ She'coufd^^ 
 S^^Sl?"' ""^"^ '^^^ the boy had goneTM 
 was m Mortuner in the same position she had beT? 
 She had se^t him drop to hi. kn^when WiSo laSd 
 ^t; M must be sorely hurt; now he was redk^ m£1 
 orunken man as he fouirht thu m^A k™*-- ^^ ^* * 
 
 'This way," she 
 
 fought the mad brutes. 
 
 11. , . •" — ^ P*°*®^» catching Lan bv the ««•♦ .^^ 
 pulling him toward the window ^ *' "^ 
 
 ^j,^ It was the girl, and she had called him-'lcSJ 
 
 rio6] 
 
 f 
 
He «ked the hlaek hor« hj the cr^ j,a.t „., /,, ^ 
 ovtrixmeriug the ghi. 
 
mm-^ 
 
 (t 
 
CRAPTSa TEK 
 
 i 
 
 •» "Quick! Now r and ihepiuhed him toward it. 
 
 «Y<m-llwt-back, you derilf r and he preMed away 
 nwi her, d'>9er to the honec, thnuting and itriUnc 
 with the iteel-pointed fork. ^^ 
 
 through the door, weakening before the onilanght of 
 the powerful chestnut. Eren in battle, ae in a raos, the 
 nanuna of the Lanarone blood waa telling; the bull- 
 dog courage of the strain was strong upon Lausanne, 
 now that he was roused. -^mc, 
 
 ^^'^ You can get out r again called the girl 
 
 IWs drear, repetition was the only expression Mor- 
 ttmor's numbed senses were equal to; but he fought with 
 thef erodty of a tiger— his wound but enrsged him. 
 jn>ej could both escape, Allis knew, if she could bring 
 Mortoner to understand; but they must do it quick/S 
 ataU. It was useless. He seemed conscious of but the 
 OM idea that he must drive the fighting animals out 
 toto the passage to save her. She was noC afraid now ; 
 the mans presence had driven that aU away. It was 
 
 Jirfess to sp^ to him of the window, ndthw would go 
 taj; jo^th her riding whip she fou^t side by side 
 with Mortimer; springing back from the swift<uttinff 
 forefeet; sometimes even hugging close to the side of a 
 horse as he lashed out from behind; and once saving 
 her oompamon from being cut down by pulling h^ 
 mftly from under a raised foot. In thTrad the 
 rtallions were forced out into the passage, just aa Mifcf 
 came rushii^ npon the scene. 
 
 [107] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 « ?L* ?*uM^ '^'^ ™*^ Twioi DUWo htd batn 
 pulled to hii kneet, forced down by the fierce itnivth 
 ^ J« LM«ume'i J the Black wm dl but ooiuZS 
 
 ^ ^'^'^\ '?~ '^''^'^ Lwwmui'. fury reT^ 
 boy had plucked up courage to ratum; and between 
 iT? u^ Cheetnut was driven into hit itaU. AU th« 
 fight had l^en taken out of Diablo. He itnigvled to 
 hii feet, and itood trembling like a hone that had coma 
 out of a fierce cutting race. On hit neck were the marka 
 of Laiuanne't teeth, where they had mapped like the 
 
 that dnpped to the floor like water from a running eavT 
 AH the fierce fire of hate, had gone from hi. ey«. He 
 hung hi. nead dejectedly, and hi. flank. q^verS^ 
 Lauzanne, too, bore evidence of the viciou. .trife On 
 one quarter, where Diablo', .harp hoof had ripped waa 
 • cut a. though he had been Ia.hed with a .i^^,' .^ 
 hi. wither, were torn. 
 
 Mortimer and Alii, had come out of the .taU The 
 man, exhau.tod by the .truggle, leaned wearily, with 
 pale, drawn face agaimit the waU; the floor iemed 
 riippmg from under him; he felt a seuMtion of swiftly 
 paMing oflf into nothingnew. He wa. .leepy, that waa 
 all jbut a ^leepmeBs to fight against-he must .till fight. 
 
 'Tou are badly hurt.- It wa. the girl*, voice. Hewa. 
 
 s'JrnfuS!"'^ *^* ^" "~«°^ ^*' '''"^^"^ '^•• 
 lie^o^"?^"^ heavily, 'Te., I'm-Pm-I want-to 
 
 thi'iw ^^?°.7i^/*^l^^'" I* ^" Mike's voice 
 inl «wo ?" .">^ buaines.," the Trainer was say- 
 ing; we must get him out of this; he's nearly knocked 
 out. Are ye aU right. Miss?" turning to Alii. 
 
 [108] 
 
'»-■'■■-■ — •-• 
 
 CHAPTER TEN 
 
 The w<mnd«d num turned guiltily; he hid forgotten 
 the girl. Tei, rarely she had been in that hell of noiiee 
 with him, fighting too. 
 
 ''I'm juit frightened, thaf i aU/' answered Allia. "Mr. 
 Mortimer MTed me." 
 
 Had he? he wondered. How had he come in there, 
 anyway? Hie mind refuted to work out the problem; 
 hii dde waa lo lore. 
 
 Ter arm'i broke/' laid Mike, paising to Mortimer^i 
 right tide. "Come, lean on me, air. Can ye walk? Ill 
 put ye in the buggy and drive ye to the house.'' 
 
 At the first step Mortimer staggered and swayed like 
 a drunken man. In his side were many sharp things 
 pulling him down like grappling irons; on his head 
 was a great weight that crushed his feet into the hard 
 planks; his knees gave under this load, and he would 
 have fallen but for Mike's strong arm. 
 
 "I'm—afraid;" then he set his teeth hard, his voice 
 had sought to end the sentence in a groan of anjuish; 
 the thing that was tearing at his side had whistled in 
 his lungs. 
 
 Allis stepped forward swiftly, and passing her arm 
 about his waist, helped Mike lead him to the door. 
 Twice she put her left hand up and brushed tears from 
 her eyes; the struggle had unnerved her. Very help- 
 lessly against her swayed the man she had laughed at 
 half an hour before. And he had been crushed saving 
 her t But that was not why the tears came— not at all. 
 She was unstrung. 
 
 "And he's got grit," she kept muttering to herself; 
 "he has never even groaned." 
 
 Together they succeeded in getting him into the 
 buggy; then, gently, Mike drove to the house. 
 
 [109] 
 
■\^. 
 
 XI 
 
 Mb8. Pobtob, reading a book on the veranda heard 
 
 o" A^ wlku ''h:^^ 'r eyes leisurely, tt n^aTt:? 
 
 «Toh« i" 7 . , °^^^ *»'** ^th a quick cry of 
 
 John I she sprang to her feet, the volume, left to itLf 
 
 fek ^t rr ?*K ?' '^'^^^ "^d «»« °^°ther hekrt 
 lelt that some evU had comt to Allis. Mrs Portpr h^ 
 
 r" T^*; ^"^ ^*"^*- 0^«' her hung hS^It^ 
 
 t'Ch^'T^orL's^^'^^ '''''''' ^-^^-* --^-^^o^ 
 
 do^^^'VZ't"' "^'^^ ^"?^' '"^^^ «« h« <^e to the 
 riX nf M ^'-^r?!^ r'^^y ^'0^ the veranda at 
 Mght of his wife's blanched face, and made to cat<A 
 
 rneonve. Its AUis, John; oh, my God r 
 fcnJ^'''*''^' ^® answered, "the/re just coming back- 
 
 ghat's the matter, girir he began. 
 ^CrfJ^}^« gentleman's got a bit shook ud mr. 
 nothm' bad loike,- Mike broke in hastilv Th7j,SL' 
 
 STn^St^v '' >^^' ^^'" ™ addX/MiT^o^rt 
 
 h.i«T "* " °'** ^"^ ** *"'" he continued. '^WeOl 
 dX^^^SSS^S"- ^' -' I'^ best go fo7S 
 
 [no] 
 
CHAPTER ELEVEN 
 
 from^e^ri^^ ^'f' '^f''''^ ^'y ^"^ ^«^P«d Mortimer 
 nwi the ng . e :iad not uttered a sound: his t^th 
 ^re set hard at;aiust the a^ony that was ii Ws ride 
 and the queer dizziness that was over him left Sle be! 
 fC i? r°''''^';rT ^^^ ^« '^^^ being looked after a^d 
 1^ ^ ^f "^.^ '^y ^^P «°i°« '0' a little, ii^t 2i Ws 
 yS Jhlfw' ^Tf *^ P'^""^^ »>^ aiwrto^eep 
 ^ ;en^unhr«f ^ w""*'^^ ^' ^*« «« drowsy T 
 fL^rS ^V^ ^^.'''' *^^ *^° °^«°» * haggard 
 f^fW?^ ^"^ °T^' *^ '*^- It ^a« familiar f he 
 
 -dl.£XS.""^^- ^^- b«-" on a bed, and- 
 th^^"" the three men with the sUence of disaster over 
 
 fic^e^downand^^^^^^ *"" 
 
 ^^p ^omra^^o^hanl tK^ef t«: 
 Aoulder patted her with erratic rapiSty Then^l' 
 mterrupt^ herself. *mat am I sa^ng-it's A"ckS' 
 
 feS f ^f J> ^ ' ^^^ ' °*y ^^^'^ ^«» i^ my mouth ; I 
 it^if^ ! ^?/°^ '^ ~"^« home like this « 
 At that instant Gaynor dashed by them leaned inM 
 
 the bnggy, and called, as he drove ^offT^^Tve The 
 
 T.,^^^"?. *" *^^ ^hirr of swift-rushing wheeh 
 
 ^h ^M ??**^« him from the landscape. 
 Oh, girl I I thought you'd been kiUed." 
 
 Allir«S IJST* T^^T' y^"''^ »" ^o'l^ed up,- and 
 AiliB put a cool hand on her mother's hot forehead. 
 
 [Ill] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 But the shock to her feelings had loosed the good 
 woman's vocabulary. At all times smouldered in her 
 heart a hatred of racing, even of the horses. "It's the 
 anger of God/* Mrs, Porter denounced vehemently. 
 "This gambling and racing is contrary to His law. 
 Never a night passes, Allis, that I do not pray to Gk>d 
 that He may open your father's eyes to the sin of racing. 
 No good can come of it — ^no good has ever come of itr— 
 nothing but disaster and trouble. In a day the sub- 
 stance of a year is wasted. There never can be pros- 
 perity living in sin.'* 
 
 "Hush, mother," crooned Allis, softly. This outburst 
 from Mrs. Porter startled the girl ; it was so passionate, 
 80 vehement. When they had talked of racing in the 
 home life the mother had nearly always preserved a re- 
 proachful silence; her attitude was understood and 
 respected. 
 
 "I must speak, girl," she said again ; "this sinful life 
 is crushing me. Do you think I feel no shame when I 
 sit in meeting and hear our good minister denounce 
 gambling and racing? I can feel his eyes on me, and I 
 cannot raise my voice in protest, for do not I counte- 
 nance it? My people were all church people,'* she con- 
 tinued, almost apologetically, "tolerating no sin in the 
 household. Living in sin there can be no hope for 
 eternal life." 
 
 **I know, mother," soothed the girl; "I know just 
 how you feel, but we can't desert father. He does not 
 look upon it as a sin, as carrying any dishonor; he may 
 be cheated, but he cheats no man. It can't be so sinfol 
 if there is no evil intent. And listen, mother; no matter 
 what anybody may say, even the minister, we must both 
 stick to father if he chooses to race horses all his life." 
 
 [1121 
 
CHAPTER ELEVEN 
 
 "Ah, sweetheart I" John Porter cried out in a pleased 
 voice, as he came out to them, 'looking after mother; 
 that* 8 right. Cynthia has helped me fix up Mortimer. 
 Hell be all right as soon as Mike gets back with Bath- 
 bone. I think we'd better have a cup of tea; these 
 horses are trying on the nerves, aren't they, little 
 woman r and he nestled his wife's head against his side. 
 "How did it happen, Allis? Did Mortimer slip into 
 Diablo's box, or— " ,^ 
 
 "It was all over that rascally boy. Shandy. Diablo 
 was just paying him back for his ill-treatment, and I 
 went in to rescue him, and Mortimer risked his life to 
 save mine." 
 
 "He was plucky; eh, giri?" 
 
 "He fought the Black like a hero, father. But, father, 
 you must never think bad of Lauzanne again; if he 
 hadn't come Mr. Mortimer would have been too late." 
 
 "It's dreadful, dreadful," moaned the mother. 
 
 Allis shot a quick look at her father. He changed the 
 subject, and commenced talking about Alan— wondering 
 where he was, and other irrelevant matters. 
 
 Then there was fresh divertisement as Mike rattled 
 up, and Doctor Rathbone, who was of a great size 
 bustled in to where Mortimer lay. * 
 
 Three smashed ribs and a broken arm was his in- 
 ventory of the damage inflicted by Diablo's kick, when 
 he came out again with Porter, in an hour. 
 
 'Tm afraid one of the splintered ribs is tickling his 
 lung," he added, "but the feUow has got such a good 
 nerve that I hardly discovered this unpleasant fact. 
 Hell be all right, however; he's young, and healthy as 
 a peach. Good nursing is the idea, and hell get that 
 here, of course. He doesn't want much medicine; that 
 
 [118] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 ^ we keep for our enemies,— ha I haT and he laughed 
 cheerily, as if it were all a joke on the battered man. 
 
 'Thim docthers is cold-blooded divils/' was Mike^s 
 comment. **Ye'd a thought they'd been throwin* dice, 
 an' it was a horse on the other gintleman. Bot' t'umbs t 
 it was, too. Still, if ould Saw-bones had been in the 
 box yonder wit* Diablo, -o wouldn't a-felt so funny." 
 
 "Mortimer behaved well; didn't he, Mike?" asked 
 Porter. 
 
 "Behaved weU, is it? He was like a live divil; 
 pujiched thim two big stallions till they took water an* 
 backed out. My word I ,whin first I see him come to 
 the stable wit* Miss Allis, thinks I, here's wan av thim 
 city chumps; he made me tired. An' whin he talked 
 about Lauzanne's knees, m'aning his hocks, I had to 
 hide me head in a grain bag. But if ye'd seen him 
 handle that fork, bastin' the Black, ye'd a thought it 
 was single sticks he was at, wit' a thousand dollars fer 
 a knock-out." 
 
 "One can't always tell how a colt will shape, can they, 
 Mike?" spoke Porter, for Mike's fanciful description 
 was almost bringing a smile to Mrs. Porter's troubled 
 face. 
 
 "Ye can*t, sor, an* yer next the truf there. r?e 
 seen a herrin*-gutted weed av a two-year-old — I re- 
 member wan now; he was a Lexington. It was at 
 Saratoga; an* bof t*umbs! he just made hacks ay 
 iverythin* in soight-Hspread-eagled his field. Ye 
 wouldn't a-give two dollars fer him, an* he come out an* 
 cleaned up the Troy Stake, like the great horse he waa." 
 
 "And you think Mortimer has turned out something 
 like that; eh, Mike?" 
 "Well, fer a man that knows no more av horses than I 
 
 [lU] 
 

 CHAPTER ELEVEN 
 
 blow av the etrology ar stars, he*s a hot wan, an* that's 
 the God's trut*." 
 
 Mortimer's gallant act had roused the Irishman's 
 ndmiration. He would have done as much himself, but 
 that would have been expected of a horseman, constantly 
 encountering danger; that an office man, to be pitied in 
 his ignorance, should have fearlessly entered the stall 
 with the fighting stallions was quite a different matter. 
 
 Even AUis, with her more highly developed sense of 
 character analyzation, felt something of this same in- 
 fluence. She had needed some such manifestation of 
 Mortimer's integral force, and this had come with 
 romantic intensity in the tragic box-stall scene. This 
 drama of the stable had aroused no polished rhetoric; 
 Mortimer's declamation had been unconventional in the 
 extreme. "Back, you devils !" he had rendered with ex- 
 plosive fierceness, oblivious of everything but that he 
 must save the girl. The words still rang in the ears of 
 AUis, and also the echo of her own cry when in peril, 
 "Mortimer!" There must have been a foreshadowing 
 in her soul of the man's reliability, though she knew 
 it not. 
 
 Even without the doctor's orders, it was patent that 
 Mortimer must remain at Ringwood for a few days. 
 
 It was as if PhiUp Crane, playing with aU his intense 
 subtlety, had met his master in Fate; the grim arbiter 
 of man's ways had pushed forward a chessman to 
 occupy a certain square on the board for a time. 
 
 Mortimer had been most decisively smashed up, but 
 his immense physique had wonderful recuperative pow- 
 ers. The bone-setting and the attendant fever were 
 discounted by his vitality, and his progress toward 
 recovery was marvelous. 
 
 [115] 
 
xn 
 
 Cbame heard of the accident on one of hia vigita to 
 Brookfield a couple of days later, and of course must 
 hurry to Bingwood to see hia employee. It happened 
 that the Reverend Mr. Dolman graced the Porter home 
 with his presence the same evening that Crane was there. 
 
 Naturally the paramount subject of interest waa the 
 narrow escape of Miss AUis; but the individuality of 
 discussion graduaUy merged into a crusade against 
 racing, led by the zealous clergyman. John Porter 
 viewed this trend with no little trepidation of feeling. 
 
 It was Mrs. Porter who precipitated matters by 
 piously attributing Allis's escape to Providence. 
 
 "Undoubtedly, undoubtedly l" Mr. Dohnan said, put- 
 ting the points of his fingers together in front of hia 
 lean chest. He paused a moment, and Porter groaned 
 inwardly; he knew that attitude. The fingers were 
 rapiers, stilettos; presently their owner would thrust, 
 with cutting phrase, proving that they were all indeed 
 a very bad lot. Perhaps John Porter would have 
 resented this angrily had he not felt that the Beverend 
 Inquisitor was really honest in his beliefs, albeit in- 
 tolerably narrow in his conclusions. 
 
 Dolman broke the temporary silence. "But we 
 shouldn't tempt Providence by worship, ig false images. 
 Love of animals is commendable— commendable**— -he 
 emphasized this slight concession— **but race horses 
 always appeal to me as instruments of the Evil One ** 
 
 [116] 
 
CHAPTER TWELVE 
 
 «,r^* ^*«»'t the horee'g fault at aU, Mr. Dolman " AUiii 
 
 ister l^l ^^^^"^ f one horse," continued the min- 
 
 I think Mr Dolman is right," ventured Mrs. Porter 
 h^itetingly; "It's flying i„ the face of Provident fo^ 
 gjl to go amongst those race horses." 
 Bad-tempered men make them vicious, mother" 
 Albs said; "and I believe that Shand/s pu^sCeit 
 was the visitation of Providence, if the^wLTny^'"* 
 The Reverend Dolman^s face took on an auster^ look 
 It was an insult to the divine powers to assert t^i 
 they had taken the part of a race ho«e But he ^^^ 
 
 tt S* *° ^' f'^ ^°^«- "I*'« q^te wrong to a^ute 
 th. noble anmial; and thafs one reason why I hold 
 tuat racing is contrary to the Creator's intentions qui e 
 apart from the evil effect it has on morals." ' ^ 
 
 Por^'wker'' ^^"""^ ''^'' "''"' ^- ^^^^^^" John 
 His question forced Dolman to define }»•« ««oi««« 
 Porter dwa^ liked thi^g. ^S^^Jf^-^^fZ 
 w™^m principle or right. DolmM foJ^h^^J 
 . 4ffio«lt man to t«!kle. He had thia irritoS.rw 
 
 V«Kr to get back to first principles. 
 
 Mrs. Porter sighed audibly. The minister was weak 
 to'^r "'' ^^^ '" husband a'l^o^J^ 
 
 tll7] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 ''I hardly think radng quite ao bad as it is generally 
 supposed to he" interposed Crane, feeling that Porter 
 was being pilloried somewhat. He received a reproach- 
 fol look from Mrs. Porter for his pains. 
 
 **l've never seen any good come of it/' retorted Dol- 
 man. ''A Christian man must feel that he is encour- 
 aging gambling if he countenances racing, for they 
 contend that without betting racing is impossible.*' 
 
 "Everything in life is pretty much of a gamble,** 
 Porter drawled, lazily; ''there aren't any such things. 
 The ships that go to sea, the farmer's crop-— everything 
 is more or less a matter of chance. If a man goea 
 straight he has a fairly easy time with his conscience, 
 no matter what he's at; but if he doesn't, well, he'd 
 better go hungry." 
 
 ''A great many very honorable men are racing to- 
 day," added Crane ; "men who have built up large for- 
 tunes through honest dealing, and wouldn't be racing if 
 they felt that it was either unchristian or dishonorable." 
 
 "They can't be Christians if they countenance 
 gambling," asserted the minister, doggedly. 
 
 It occurred to Mortimer that whenever the discussion 
 took broader lines. Dolman drew it back into the narrow 
 cell of his own convictions. 
 
 Porter scratched his head perplexedly. They had 
 been discussing the moral influence of racing.; this 
 seemed more like theology. 
 
 "It is certainly unchristian," commented Mrs. Porter, 
 severely. 
 
 "I haven't seen much Christian spirit in any busi- 
 ness," said Porter, quietly ; "they all seem more a mat- 
 ter of written agreements. In fact there's more done on 
 honor in racing than in any of the business gambles. A 
 
 [118] 
 
CHAPTER TWELVE 
 
 man ihat'i erooked in ndng is van to oome to grief in 
 the long run." 
 
 Crane shifts in hii ehair, and Dolman conghed 
 deprecating\y. 
 
 "For my v^Jt," continued Porter, *1*Te never found 
 it necessary to do anything I'm ashamed of in racing." 
 
 His wife saw an opening. ''But, John dear, you 
 were treated most shunefully last year; a dishonest 
 boy hauled your horse — ** 
 
 *Tulled, mother/' interposed Allis; ''pulled father's 
 horse, you mean." 
 
 'Terhaps, though I fail to see where the difference 
 can be, if the horse ran the other way and your father 
 lost." 
 
 Porter smiled indulgently. "The boy was punished, 
 Helen," he said. "Dishonesty is not tolerated on the 
 race course." 
 
 "Yes, but something is always happening," she con- 
 tinued in lament. "If s contrary to the law of the 
 church, John. It seems just like a visitation of divine 
 wrath the way things happen. And you're so sanguine, 
 John; last year you were going to win a big race with 
 Diablo when he threw his 1^—" 
 
 "Threw a splint, mother," p:ompted Allis. 
 
 "I thought your father said it was his leg had some- 
 thing the matter with it," argued Mrs. Porter. 
 
 "The splint was on his leg, mother dear." 
 
 "WeU, I'm not familiar with racing phrases, I must 
 say, though I should be, goodness knows; I hear little 
 else. And talk of cruelty to animals I" she turned to 
 Mr. Dolman; "they burned the poor beasfs leg with 
 hot irons — ** 
 
 The minister held up his hands in horror. 
 
 [iia] 
 
THOBOVOHBREOS 
 
 rrtTtart^ .V^ contowted fcom neglect in ihoeinc 
 tl» .ggreMiye tothe de/enriTe ^^i SX 
 
 ^^ we«.„ of „3r congreg.tion'^tae.T.^' 
 This rebuke caused a momentery sUenee »r.A n«i 
 
 to hi. ieply^ •""' *° '"^ ^<*y coMiAwbly 
 
 *«,» "TT ^'*^^ ••»"* *•» iMe coane." he Mid «hnf 
 
 ?':^:h%?^^^S"HS 
 
CHAPTER TWELVE 
 
 the bttt«nd jonng man who had rabttitnted common 
 MOM for lophiftical reaioning. 
 
 The roTennd gentleman frowned. **li*§ not the 
 horMi at all," he said, <'it'e the men who are diirepnt- 
 aMe.** ' 
 
 Mn. Porter gate a little warning cough. In hia 
 ■eaUrasneei Mr. Dolman might anger her hoaband. then 
 hia logic wonld arail little. 
 
 ''The men are like the hones/' commented Porter, 
 "■ome bad and some good. They arerage about the 
 same aa they do in anything ebe, moetly ^od, I think. 
 Of ooune, when you get a bad one he itanda out and 
 ererybody sees him." 
 
 "And sometimes horses—and men, too, I suppose^ 
 get a bad name when they don't deserve it," added 
 Allis. "Everybody says Lauzanne is bad, but I know 
 he's not." 
 
 *That was a case of this dreadful dishonesty," said 
 Mrs. Porter, speaking hastily. She turned in an explana- 
 tory way to Crane. "You know, Mr. Crane, last sum- 
 mer a rascally man sold my husband a crooked horse. 
 Now, John, what are you laughing at ?" for her husband 
 was shaking in his chair. 
 
 /^Ij'M wondering what a crooked horse would look 
 like, he answered, and there were sobe in his voice. 
 
 "Why, John, when you brought lidm home you said 
 he was crooked." 
 
 Aa usual, Allis straightened matters out: **It was the 
 man who was crooked. Mother means Lausanne," she 
 continued. 
 
 'Tes," proceeded the good woman, "a Mr. Langdon, 
 I remember now, treated my husband most shamefully 
 over this horse." ^ 
 
 cm] 
 
THOaoUOHBHEDB 
 
 "J^ i. hc«Mt Ummit," ««at «t Un. Porter, "tad 
 
 SS;^^ IT* "" ""^ '^' " *•' "^ ""^^^ 
 "Slumrful," pntaMcd Dohnu. «Aw men Jkwrf 
 
 ^nt eildwitly 11 it done," oontended Dolm^ 
 
 IBM Win of the coonmtinii nude Crane tmf wmrm 
 iiaeMy. «Do you think, Mr. Po^ S^JST^SS 
 
 thmk Ltogdonwoald-." Ee hetittted. ^ 
 
 Mr. Lwgdon has a tolerable idea of what I think" 
 «n.WBred Porter. «I shouldn't truat th«t m« too 
 much if I were you. He', got cunning enough, tSugh^ 
 to run straight with a man like yZselfTho l3 a 
 
 ^Z^}? "^ •*•"•' -"^ ^"-^'^ ^ '- ^ ^^ 
 *! know very little about him," protested Crane- 
 
 -•'Z?*!' continued Porter, half wearily, as thomrh he 
 
 b^^shl*°if J^ ^"^"^ *-^^°' '^ -« 
 black sheep in racmg as there a.e in everything else 
 
 % own c^on is <Jjat the most of the Wkwf STr 
 
 tbout crooked radng is simply talk. At least nine ~I 
 
 ^t^ races are honestly run-the best horse wins. I 
 would rath^ cut off my right hand than steal a race, 
 
 Tucretii.'' •'^" '* ''" "^^ *^* ' ^ P^IW 
 
OUPTIR TW£LVB 
 
 n ntT«r hetrd of th«t, John," orUd Mn. PttrHr. ia 
 Mtonithment. 
 
 •TTo. you didn V dryly auwered her hnsbuid. 
 
 Allii tmiled; ihe had aettled that part of it with her 
 father at the time. 
 
 **If yooTl excQie me/* began Crane, riling, "I think 
 Mr. Mortimer ii getting tired. I beliere 111 io£ back 
 to Brookileld." 
 
 Beluctantly the Reyerend Dolman row, too. He felt, 
 •omehow, that the atmosphere of racing had amothered 
 hw expoitnlation-that he had made little headway. 
 The intense honosty that was John Porter's shielded 
 him abont almost as perfectly as a higher form of be- 
 lief might have done. 
 
 But with almoHt a worldly cunning it occurred to 
 the clergyman that he could turn the drawn battle into 
 a victory for the church ; and as they stood for a minute 
 in the gentle bustle of leave-taking, he said: "The 
 ever-oontinuing fight that I carry on against the various 
 forms of gambling must necessarily take on at times 
 tlmost a personal aspect—" he was addressing Mr. Por- 
 ter, ostensibly— **but in reality it is not quite so. I 
 think I understand your position, Mr. Porter, and-and 
 —what shall I say— personally I feel that the wicked- 
 ness of racing doesn't appeal to you as a great con- 
 tamination; you withstand it, but you will forgive me 
 ■aying so, thousands have not the same stxemrth of 
 character.** ^ 
 
 Porter made a deprecatory gesture, but Dolman pro- 
 ceeded. "What I was going to say is, that you possibly 
 mlwe this yourself. You have acted so wisely, with 
 what I would call Christian forethought, in placing 
 jwt sen, Alan, is a different walk in life, and— ^ 
 
 [IfS] 
 
THOROUOHBREDS 
 
 turned with a graye bow in Crane's direction— "and in 
 good hands, too." 
 
 ||His mother wished it/' Porter said, simply. 
 
 •Yes, John was very good about Alan's future/' the 
 motiier concurred^ ''But, husband, you quite agreed 
 
 .1*, ''?.??** ^^ for Alan to be in the bankthan 
 possibly dnfting into association with— weU, sueh dis- 
 honorable men as this Mr. Langdon and his friends. 
 He IS so much better off," she continued, "with youmr 
 "^ « Mr. Crane would have about him." 
 
 The Beveiend Dohnan smiled meekly, but it was in 
 tniunph. He had called attention to an act which spoke 
 far louder than Mr. Porfler's discUiming words. 
 
 Porter was not at all deceived by the minister: in fact 
 he rather admired the other's cleverness in beatimr him* 
 
 ?^P?*; He gave a little laugh as he said: '*I 
 should not have succeeded very well in a bank. lam 
 more athme with the horses than I am with figures: 
 but I «^ I woiJd have gone fairly straight, and hope 
 tte boy inll do the same. I f an<^ one of the |3 
 tooubUj, about banKng is to keep the men honestfSe 
 tmptation of handhng so much money being great 
 1 ftey seem to have more chances to steal than men on 
 the race course." ^^ 
 
 As usual. Porter seemed to be speaking ont of hia 
 thoughts and without malice; no one took offense. It 
 TO smiply a straightforward answer to Bofanan'a 
 cnaige. 
 
 Porter had simply summed up the whole business in 
 « very smaU nutsheU. That there was temptation 
 everjjrhere, and that honest men and thieves were to be 
 
 5w lu'^x?*!**"^' ^ ^'^^^ "» e^eiy bTMiness, but 
 that, hke the horses, a fair share of them were howit 
 
CHAPTER TWELVE 
 
 "Spedring materudly of race hones quite ontside of 
 the moral aspect/' said Crane, as he was taking his 
 leave, "youTl have to be mighty careful of that Diablo, 
 Mr. Porter, when Miss Allis is about; he seems a vin- 
 dictive brute/* 
 
 'TTes, John; youTl have to sell him right away; 111 
 be frightened to death while he's about the place." 
 
 1 shall never be a bit afraid of him," remonstrated 
 AHIs; ''Shandy, who made all the mischief, has been 
 discharged." 
 
 'Diablo has always been more trouble than he's 
 worth," said Porter. "I thought he was going to be a 
 good horse, but he isn't; and if he has taken to eating 
 people I'll give him away some day. I wouldn't sell him 
 as a good horse, and nobody'd buy a man-eater." 
 
 "Ill buy him when you make up your mind, Mr. 
 Porter," exclaimed Crane, somewhat eagerly. 1 have 
 nobody sweet enough to tempt his appetite. In the 
 meantime. Miss Allis, if I were you I should keep awav 
 from him." *^ ' 
 
 Then presently, with good-nights and parting words 
 ^ warning about Diablo, the guests were gone; and 
 Mortimer, having declined Porter's proffered help, was 
 somewhat awkwardly-^ving but one good hand—pre- 
 paring to retire in Alan's room. 
 
 His mind worked somewhat faster than his fingers- 
 seroral new problems had been given it to labor over 
 within the compass of a single moon. That horse racing 
 should ever become a disturbing interest in his life had 
 seemed very improbable; now it was like a gale about 
 hissoul. It swayed him. He was storm-tossed in the 
 ^sturbing element; he could come to no satisfying con- 
 clusion. On the one hand the thoroughbred horses were 
 
 [1«5] 
 
TROROUOHBRlDi 
 
 to be tdttired; thty ww« brart and true, crtatuiM of 
 lore. Alio Porter wm an honest man, the one thine he 
 admired above all else. 
 
 AndMissAllisI Somehow or other his eyes wandered 
 to a picture that rested on a mantelpiece in the room. 
 He took it down, looking furtively over his shoulder 
 as he did so, and taking it close under the lamp that 
 was on the table sat and gazed steadfastly into the 
 girlish face. 
 
 Even in the photograph the big, wondrous eyes seemed 
 to say, **What of wrong, if we are not wrong?" That 
 was the atmosphere so thoroughly straightforward and 
 honest that wrong failed of contamination. 
 
 Still it was unconvincing to Mortimer. The horses 
 might be good, the man honest, and the girl pure and 
 sweet, but the life itself was distasteful. Beason as one 
 might, it WHS allied to gambling. 
 
 Mortimer rose with a sigh, the -whole thing wearied 
 mm. Why should he distress his mind over the matter ? 
 As he put the photograph back on the mantel he held it 
 for an instant, then suddenly, with a nervous, awkward 
 gesture, brought it to his lips and kissed the eyes that 
 seemed to command tribute. 
 
 The movement twisted his broken-ribbed side and an 
 agony of pain came to him in quick retribution. It 
 was as though the involuntary kiss had lurched him for- 
 ward into a futurity of misery. The spasm loosed beads 
 of perapiration which stood cold on his forehead. Swift 
 taken from the stimuUmt of his thoughts, his nerves 
 overtaxed by the evening, jangled discordantly, and he 
 CTept into bed, feeling an unutterable depression as 
 though the roMa was filled with evil, threatening 
 spirits. ™-» 
 
 -V 
 
xm 
 
 Iw eoinddenoe the two men, Mortimer and Crane 
 had similar thoughts the day after Mr. Dohnan> dis- 
 cussion; and, rather remarkably, their deductions were 
 alike, having the same subject of mental retrospect— 
 Allis Porter. 
 
 It was evident that outside of her family little in- 
 terested her but horses; certainly not a very lofty aspi- 
 ration. Wher^ the conversation had dealt with broad 
 prmciples, mon and their shortcomings, the previous 
 evening, she had centralized it in Lauwmne, picturing 
 lum as ^bolical of good acts and evO repute. Patent? 
 It was difficult to become interested in such a young 
 woman; actually she monopolized their thoughts In- 
 oonsistentiy the fair offender felt no recoil of this 
 somewhat distressing situation; her mind busied itself 
 chiefly over the reclamation of Lauzanne 
 
 By inheritance aU tiie quaHties of a gi)od horse had 
 come to him except a submissive temper. AUis worked 
 on the theory tiiat his disposition had been set awry bv 
 injudicious handling; tiiat unlimited patience would 
 awe bm to forget aU that. He could gaUop, else he 
 had not won the race in which he beat The Dutchman. 
 That he had needed a stimulant that day was because 
 to had been soured and would not try witii his wits 
 about him. 
 
 Prom tiie time of coming back to Ringwood Allis 
 iMd ndden him in all his exercise gaUops, and had 
 
 [1«71 
 
THORbUOHBREDS 
 
 •fked Mike penonally to saperriae his stable educa- 
 tion. It had taken all her great patience, all her 
 yonthfnl enthusiasm and faith, for the Chestnut had 
 notions beyond all belief. At first, missing the abuse, 
 he almost seemed to thirst for it; tried the gentle girl 
 in every way— sulked, and loafed, and took little streaks 
 of trying to cut the course, and made false breab as 
 though he were going to run with a full vigor; even 
 laid hold of the horses with his teeth when opportunity 
 offered. These antics did not break the girPs faith; 
 she rode him with the gentle hand a woman knows and 
 a horse soon learns to appreciate, and gave him to 
 understand that he was to have fair treatment. 
 
 Porter viewed this continuous performance with 
 silent skepticism. He did not abuse horses himself, 
 neither did he put up with too much nonsense from 
 them. To him they were like children, needing a lot 
 of tolerant kindness, but, also, at times, to be greatly 
 unproved by a sound whipping. Once when he sug- 
 gested something of this sort to Allis, saying that Lau- 
 lanne was a spoiled child, she admitted he was, but that 
 thoughtless cruelty and not indulgence had done the 
 harm, therefore Idndness was the cure. 
 
 The first sign of regeneration was the implicit faith 
 that Lausanne began to place in his young mistress. 
 At first when she put up a hand to pet him he would 
 jerk his head away in affright; now he snuggled her 
 shoulder, or nibbled at her glove in fuU spirit of 
 comradarie. Then one day in a gallop came a stronger 
 manifestation, a brief minute of exhilaration, with 
 after-hours of thankfulness, and beyond that, alas for 
 the uncertainty of a spoiled temper, an added period of 
 wallowing in the Slough of Despond I 
 
 [1«83 
 
 -H- 
 
CHAPTER THIRTEEN 
 
 , 
 
 It 
 
 was on 
 
 rkling 
 
 and 
 
 a crup, sparuing morning. 
 Shandy— it was before his downfall— on Lncretia, 
 another stable lad, Ned Carter, on Game Boy, and Allis 
 on Lanzanne, the three swung oflf for a working gallop 
 of a mile or more. Lanzanne was in an inquisitive 
 mood, as the other two raced on in front. What was 
 his light-weighted rider up to anyway? Why did she 
 always leave it to him to do just as he liked ? War she 
 re&iiy deceiving him? Did she wish him to lie back 
 there behind the others always? He fell to wondering 
 what she would do if he were to take hold of the bit 
 and spread his big muscles in one rushing gallop, and 
 go on past the others and get home t he feed box first. 
 He rattled the snafl9e in Ids mouth ich nervous inde- 
 cision — ^he had a notion to try it. 
 
 "Steady, my boy r said Allis, as she sUpped the reins 
 back through her fingers till they stretched tight. A 
 doKsn times she had sought in vain to make him think 
 she did not wish him to gallop, but something in the 
 crisp air this morning threw Wm off . " guard. Why 
 should he be forced to lag behind? Ho stretched the 
 arch of his neck straight till the bit held hard in his 
 mouth; the ears pitched forward in eager point; the 
 great frame under the girl quivered and sank closer to 
 earth; the roar of his beating hoofs came up to her 
 ears, muffled by the drive of the wind that was now a 
 gale as the Chestnut raced into it with the speed of an 
 express. How her heart sang I Here was speed, and 
 with such stride— strong, and straight, and true I Low 
 she crouched, and her call to Lauzanne was but a 
 joyous whisper. Her small hands were framed in steel, 
 strength to steady the big Chestnut as he swung round 
 the course glued to the rail. On Lauzanne sped, and to 
 
 [129] 
 
 ! 
 
' ^ 1 
 
 THOROVOHBRXni 
 
 tlM rhythm of his big hMyiag qoarttn tht girl's sovl 
 sang ft song of delight. At kst, ftt last wss coming 
 hor reward. 
 
 And then, just when everything hftd been achiered, 
 whm the great gallop had brought them half up the 
 stretch, something came to Lansanne— perhaps the 
 memory of the whipping finishes; at any rate, he 
 curled up like a dog, threw his ears back— Allis oonld 
 feel the sudden stiff prop of the forelegs as he set him- 
 self against the rush of speed— and in a dozen strides 
 he was Lauzanne again, liauzanne the Despised. 
 
 And so it had gone on for weeks, Allis working out 
 her theory up to the time of the trouble over Diablo. 
 There was something in the girl's quiet determination 
 that was masterful; perhaps that was why she had 
 always had her own way at home. Now this masteiy 
 was spreading out wonderfully ; Lauzanne, and Mike, 
 and her father, and Crane, and Mortimer, all in differ- 
 ent degrees of subjection, but, as Fate knew, all subject 
 Mrs. Prater's continual lament on the subject ot 
 racing had given Crane a keynote for his line of action. 
 It was the day following her scoring of the tolerant 
 husband that Cran^ revisited Bingwood full of his new 
 idea. 
 
 He had an impulse to buy back Lauzanne. For almost 
 the first time in his life he experienced twinges of 
 remorse; this was because of Allis. Porter's affairs 
 were in a bad way, and he would probably accept eagerly 
 an offer from Crane to lighten his load. Individually 
 he cared little for Porter's financial troubles, but it was 
 a good oppcnrtunity to prepare the way for a stronger 
 pressing of his suit with the girl. With his usual fine 
 discrimination he spoke to Mrs. Porter first, intimating 
 
 [ISO] 
 
CHAPTER THIRTEBN 
 
 •0 iUghtly tlut her wordi had won hii antir. 
 
 S!^#^ ^ ^'^ ^'^^^^^ *^* ^« had no concep- 
 tion of the unnghteouMMM of hi. acta. At any rate 
 olI.i^?!!S."*^J rocoessfuUy npon the mother o^Alli8 
 Chute egotiBticaUy she attributed to herself the trend of 
 
 Mli^^?- .'° If"^ T^^"^' ^'^^ ^" out for a 
 kiU«« and playing lu. cards with consummate skill. 
 
 ♦« VkT ^**"**!Jf! "^^ Bingwood he went very straight 
 
 hLSlT^- ^^ r^ P~»^"^' " Porterioidno 
 h^tote to discus his financial condition with his 
 
 w^^'^1 '"' °^*^> ^"y ^^«»J this with him 
 i« purdy a speculati^. but Porter would not part 
 
 with his httle mare. Then the banker spoke of Lau- 
 "nne «iymg that he felt somewhat guilty rinc^W 
 mg the preyious erening that the horse had been do^ 
 Porter fafled to see where Crane had anyZ^ tot 
 
 helped Langdwi by speaking of Lauzanne as t^ 
 
 SlaSJTl^Tb^krSf ^ ''' '^^"^ -'^' ^^ 
 
 .IJ!V n"^^ f * *^^ *^^ *^* wsponsibiUty could 
 • tenth of the three thousand he had cost-that was 
 STv M^"^; S'd i' ?»ne or any other inan sou^t^ 
 
 ^*n^. At any rate, Lauzanne belonged to Allis, and 
 Grant would have to bargain with h^ ' 
 
 [Itl] 
 
THOKOUOHBREDS 
 
 Then then wmDUUo, Crane Mid; his pneenee wm 
 a menace to MiM Porter. 
 
 "I've nnned him for a good while," Porter replied, 
 "and he^i a bad betting proportion— he's too uncertain. 
 Ton don't want inch a horse as that— nobody does. Ill 
 keep him a bit lon^^r, and pat him in a handicap or 
 two where the purse will be worth running for, and I 
 won't have to back him; hell get in with a feather- 
 weight, and some day may take it into his head to gallop, 
 though he's a rank bad one." 
 
 Crane did not press the point ; he understood Porter's 
 motives throughout. He knew the master of Bingwood 
 was an unchanging man/very set in his ways, adhering 
 closely to his plans and opinions. So Crane went back 
 to Brookfield without pundiasing a horse, saying as he 
 left, **I claim first privilege when you wish to sdL** 
 
 He had talked to Porter in the stable, and Mike, busy 
 near by, beard that part of their conversation retoing 
 to the horses. 
 
 "They haven't got money enough in the bank to tak» 
 tile little mare from us yet, have they, Mike?^ Porter 
 said to Gaynor, full of his pride in Lucretia. 
 
 "That they haven't, sor," replied Mike, proodfy. 
 ''But, faith, I wish th' gint hadn't come a-tryin' to bn^ 
 her; it's bad luck to turn down a big offer fer any 
 horse." 
 
 Porter smiled indulgently. This stable superttitioB 
 did not appeal to him. 
 
 "It would a-broke the bad luck, sor, to have let bim 
 took the Black." 
 "It would have broken his bank, you mean, Mike." 
 "Well, heTl break soraewan's back here yet, an' I'm 
 tellin' you that sthraight. They say a black cat* s full 
 
 - \ 
 
 V - 
 
^^HAWBR THIRTEEN 
 
 him the ChertnuT Hrt . LtC^ ^"^ f^^'* "^W 
 
 their heads off, «n' wan h^!? * T P^'' «•**»' 
 f roati ar roch wttte- • ^*^» ^I«' to cui th' 
 
 A^t'llffSeX'b^ ^'' ^0-^ — d, 
 
 hi»d succeeded in tiiTiiZ^n?^^ He 
 
 have been a ff<S «„v??^ objective point. It would 
 
 have z,:jz ?a';oX'rhi ^^r*^' ^ 
 
 money in sight. The mon^^^li?**' ^*' '*»' '^^y 
 Pewed; then Porter" ^^7 lot t^iT^. ^''' ^^ 
 hand, would almost cert^lvT. ^ ^^"^ ®» his 
 into the grasp Scr^^^ ^^ ^'^^ "»''« fl«»Iy 
 h^been ^^<^u^gr.^J^^ *« »»-y I-««mnJ 
 hegot of Allis's rege^a^'infl ^ **?^^ ^P^^> 
 ?i»ooTered that ^rcM^n^r?/ **^* ^ ^^ 
 interest in the frauHlit w^ *". ""P^ ^ o' 
 had ai«> establish^ iS^ flLT** ""S**^*- ^^ 
 ««od graces, he could aTrf 5^1."" ^"- Voter's 
 ifintheendheriTuci:,-^^^^^^ 
 
 [IM] 
 
■\> 
 
 XIV 
 
 Bhavdt's eietpade with DUblo had brought a ntw 
 tronble to Mike Oaynor. 
 
 The boy had been discharged with a levere reprimai^ 
 from Mr. Porter, and a punctuation mark of diai^)- 
 proTal from the Trainer's horn-like hand. He had de- 
 parted from Bingwood inwardly swearing leyenge npon 
 ererybody connected wi^ that place; against Diablo 
 he was particularly yin^t. 
 
 Mike tried to secure a boy in the Brookfield neighbor- 
 hood to ride Diablo in his work, but Shandy's evil 
 tongue wagged so blatantly about the horse's bad temper 
 that no lad could be found to take on in the stables. 
 Ned Garter might hare ridden Diablo at work, bat the 
 big Black was indeed a horse of many ideas. He had 
 taken a notion to gallop kindly while accompanied by 
 Lucretia and Lausanne; worked alone he sulked and 
 was as awkward as a broncho of the plains. Also he 
 disliked Oarter--seemed to associate his personality 
 with that of Shandy's. 
 
 Mike's discontent oyer the hitch spread to John 
 Porter. It was too bad; the horses had been 
 doing so well. For three days Diablo had no gallop. 
 On tiie fourth Porter determined to ride the horse 
 himself; he would not be beaten out by an ungrate- 
 ful whelp like Shandy. In his day he had been a fap 
 mous gentleman jock, and still lij^t enough to riit 
 werk. 
 
 [IM] 
 
^^HAPTER FOURTEEN 
 
 "^*S.MlLb* "^ •"' "*• ■»• <^ •~^" 
 
 But hif matter wm oMonte. If AMI. «wu t 
 «««•, why dKmlda't he ridelSblo" ^ ^'' 
 
 ti»tn hiye hi» muter do lo, but he had m h^S^ n^ 
 
 »ot. More thin <>«« »^ # ^ ^ '"'^ m«tt»nd 
 •"S^ oy t "™n '^w. • foot aqnare, through 
 
THOBOUOHBBEDB 
 
 wUoh tlM MrfM itnw bedding wm tlirawii into tht 
 yard. Standinff on Um dung hetp, Shandy worlnd 
 opan tha board ilida that okwad thia window, and 
 wormed hia waaid-fbnn throng tha amall opening. He 
 paiied down the paaaage between the atalli and entered 
 a saddle romn at the farther end. 
 
 "The bloomin' thing nied to be on the fourth peg," 
 he mattered, drawing his small figure up on tiptoe and 
 feeling along the wall for somethkig. ''Blow me I** and 
 he chuckled fiendishly as his fin|^ encountered the 
 cold steel of a bit, **l*d know that snaflk in hdL if I 
 got a feel of it." 
 
 There was a patent dtfrioe of a twist and a loose ring 
 in the center of the bit he clutched, which Porter had 
 derised for Diablo's hard mouth. 
 
 Shandy gare the bridle a swing, and it clattered to 
 the fioor from its peg. Diablo snorted and pawed the 
 planks of his stall nervously. 
 
 "All right, my buck," hissed Shandy, "you wait till 
 to-morror; youTl git the run of yer life, I*m thinkin', 
 damn their eyes f " and he went oil into a perfect torrent 
 of imprecation against everybody at Sini^'ood, hushing 
 his Toice to a snarling whiqser. Then he shut the door 
 of the saddle room, sat down on the fioor and pulled 
 from his pocket a knife and stub of candle. He lif^ited 
 the latter and held it flame down till a few dropa of 
 wax formed a tiny lake; into this he stuck the candle 
 upright, shielding its flame with his coat. He opened 
 the knife and laying it down, inspected minutely the 
 bridle whidi lay across his 1^. 
 
 'Ifs Diablo's rij^t enough," he said; "I couldn't be 
 mistook on the bit, nor them strong lines." 
 
 He picked up the knife, and holding the leathn" rein 
 
 [186] 
 
f lr^i'*Ht>h\. 
 
 ^""'T*!,-'?: '■"■" "^ '*' P«"'-!f*«¥> ''and 
 ** '*"**' to «w a gmUy mth the Hade. 
 
iV 
 
 ! t 
 
 
 ^ ■'■■ I 
 
 (I 
 
 
CHAPTER FOURTEEN 
 
 •cfo« tl^ palm of hit left hand itarted to saw it 
 giBuy with the blade. Almoat inatantlv he left off 
 
 ;W .U the bl»»uB' ijit.1 Qdir^zZrJS; 
 
 ]^ gathered in the rein nntil he had it aiz inches 
 flwtt the bit. There he cut, stopping many times, and 
 donbluig the leather close to the light to see how d^p 
 he had p^etrated. ^^^*^ 
 
 'Tliere, Mr. Bloody Nedr he exclaimed at last, as 
 inspection showed that only tbe outer hard sheU of the 
 b«ther rem«ned intact. **That11 just hold till the 
 Bla^ takes cu^ of his cranky spells, an* you give him 
 • stiff pull. God help you thenP Even this was a 
 btai^oos ciy of exultation; not a plea for divine 
 •MWance for the man he plotted against. 
 
 His next move proved that his cunning was of an 
 jwjptional order. From his coat pocket he brought 
 fortt a piU box. In this receptacle Shandy dipped a 
 ftw^Jger, and rubbed into the fresh cut of the iSber 
 *teifle of blackened axle grease which he had taken 
 
 Sr,^rSS.''^^t^?f^^^*^~*- Then he wiped 
 the rem with his coat tail and looked at it admirw 
 ingiy. 
 
 *The Uoke won't see that, blast him P 
 atog the bridle up in its place, put out the candle, 
 wwd It in his pocket and made his way from the 
 
 a^ ^«/T^ J^***^If*!" **^« ^^ ^^ "ported 
 •fiu»» tod plunged in affright. 
 
 JTou;n get enough of that to-morror,'' sneered the 
 
 iStJ^ ??i*^*°^ ^^ *?*^ ^"*^ y°^ aamn necks. 
 **r two cents I'd drop somethin' in your feed-T ox thaf d 
 
/'Ill 
 
 THOBQUGHBREDS 
 
 wtde yen right now; bnt iff tiie iknnk as split on bm 
 I want to get efen with.'' 
 
 Shandy tnidged bade to where he netted in Brook- 
 field and soon slept with calm restfnlness, as though no 
 evil had ever honied in his heart. In the first gray 
 of the early morning he rose and went out to the race 
 course. 
 
 ■\ ' 
 
 (IM] 
 
f 
 
 XV 
 
 Tm course new Bingwood had fonnerly been a trot- 
 toig trwk, and wae itm used at irregular interrals for 
 
 C*???^"** ^ »*" primitive days a smaU, square, 
 b«-like structure had done duty as a Judges' Stand. 
 Witt othOT improvements a larger structure had been 
 erected a hundred yards higher up the stretch. 
 
 It was to the little old stand that Shandy took his 
 way. Inside he waited for the coming of Ckynor's 
 ■tang of gallopers as supremely happy in his uwiAt- 
 
 «M TOkM My evil-minded boy might be at the Soi- 
 pect of unlimited mischief. ^^ ^ 
 
 **NedTl nde Diablo, sure; there's nothin' else to it." 
 he muttered. '*! hope he breaks his blasted neck. HI 
 pty flfo^fertumin' me off like a dog," he continued, 
 savagdy, tte smaU ferret eyes blaring with fury. «IT1 
 kwnthedami^ Hello!" Hi^ ears h^cauAt 
 
 {^muffled sjwnd of hoofs thudding the turf in a dow. 
 iiie;«iredwalk. He peeped betWthe boarda. 
 
 »^^^\^^^ AndthegHtoo-bhtfther! She 
 Warned me f er near bein' eat aUve by that Uack devil 
 of a dope horse. Hdll" «-»* u«tu 
 
 This Mnlriguous exclamation was occasioned by the 
 £^j^ ^«»"°«' »»«*« n>ri»«ing into the sad4 on 
 
 J^fsthegam^di? God .trike me dead I I hope 
 ywi git enough of him. My arms ache ytt from bek? 
 near puUed out of the sockete by that leather-mouthed 
 
 [189] 
 
 \ 
 
7*^ Mi 
 
 TH0I^)U0HBRBD8 
 
 brate. G«e, if the bon hasn't got spun on I If ht 
 ever tickles the Black wit' 'em— «iy, boys, thereOl be a 
 meny hell to pay, and no pitch hot." 
 
 The yonng Arab spolra^to the boards as though they 
 were partners in his iniquity. Then he chuckled dia- 
 bolically, as in fancy he saw Porter being trampled bj 
 the horse. 
 
 "The girl's on Lauzanne," he muttered; "she's the 
 best in the lot, if she did run me down. A ridin' that 
 sorrd mut, too, when she ought to be in the house 
 waahin' dishes. A woman ain't got no more business 
 hangin' 'round the stable than a man's got in the 
 kitchen. Petticoats is «the deril; I never coold 
 abide 'em." 
 
 Shandy sometimes harked back to his early English 
 Whitechapel, for he had come from the old country, 
 and had brought with him all the depravity he could 
 acquire in the first five years of his existence there. 
 
 ''Ned's got the soft snap in that blasted bunch," as 
 hif eye discovered Carter on Lucxetia. "He's slipped 
 me this go, but I've nobbled the boss, so I don't caie. 
 I'm next 'em this trip." 
 
 As the three horses and their riders came on to the 
 course he pulled Out a cheap stop-watch Langdon had 
 equipped him with for hit touting, and started and 
 stopped it several times. 
 
 "You'll pay fer their feed, you damn ole skinflint," 
 he was apostrophiaing Porter, "an' 111 be next the beat 
 they can do, an' stan' in on the rake-off. Gee! I 
 thought they was out fer a trial," he muttered, loeldiig 
 disconsolately at the three as they cantered the first 
 part of the journey. 'I'll ketch 'em at the half, on the 
 off chance," he added. 
 
 •■"Nl^- 
 
CHAPTER FIFTEEN 
 
 Bnt though the timepiece in hii hand clicked imp»- 
 toentiy after he pieaaed the stem with his thumb, m 
 Oabloi black noule showed past the half-mile poet 
 the three hones stiU cantered. ^ 
 
 Uuzanne was loping leisurely with the action of a 
 wooden rockmg-howe. Lucretia, her long, in-tipped 
 ears cocked eagerly forward, was throwing her head 
 impatiently into the air aa though pleading for Justine 
 mong gaUop. Diablo'g neck was arched like tlw half 
 of a cupid'8 bow; his head, almost against his chest, 
 hung heay in the reins tight-drawn in Porter's strong 
 hands. His eyes, showing fuU of a suspicious whitened 
 
 4^J^ ^ ^"^ *~°y ^d ' ^y ▼ere possessed 
 of a fretful, impatient look. Froth flecked back from 
 tte nervous, quivering Ups, and spattered against his 
 blade satin-skinned chest, where it hung liS seafoam 
 on holding sand. "c.**w«u 
 
 T"*?^ u^l' **^^ *~y'" P^'ter was coaxing 
 ■oothingly. "Steady, boy I*' ««*"i« 
 
 'The ease up has put the very deuce into this fellow » 
 
 ^ ''TSl^* ^^^'^^^ ^ ^^> ▼ho was at Diablo's 
 qn«ter. **He's a hard-mouthed brute if ever there 
 
 one." 
 
 «HeTl be all right, dad,« she caUed forward, raising 
 bet voice, for the wind cut her breath; "Shandy rode 
 hun with a heavy hand, that's why." 
 
 'TU put a rubber bit in his mouth, to soften it." he 
 pumped brokenly. *<Let out a wrap, girl, and we'U 
 brewe them up the stretch; come on. Carter, get to 
 the front with the mare." > 6 " •« 
 
 A quarter of a mile from the finish the horses raced 
 tato a swinging stride. Diablo was simply mad with a 
 desire to gaUop; but in the saddle was his master; no 
 
 [141] 
 
I 
 
 THOQpUQHBREDS 
 
 hone erer did M he wished with J(^ Porter. BattUng 
 agtinet the iharpe hit honesty Bu^t handicap him out 
 of the strife, but in the saddle the ehition of movement 
 crept into his sinews, and he was superb, a king. As 
 a jockey, he would kiTe been nnsnrpassed. It filled his 
 heart with delight to play with the fierce, imperious 
 animal he rode. 
 
 "Steady, my boy— no you don't 1*' This as Diablo 
 •tuck his neck straight out like an arrow and sought 
 to hold the hit tight against the bridle teeth, that he 
 might race at his own sweet will. Back came the right 
 hand, then the left; three vidons saws, and the bit waa 
 loose and Diablo's head dihiwn down again dose to the 
 martingale. Luoretia and Lausanne were pulling to 
 the front 
 
 "Go onr called Porter to Ned Carter; "I want to 
 see the little mare in her stride. Take them out at 
 three^uarter gallop down the back stretch. Ill be 
 treading your heels off.** 
 
 By this they were oi^xMite the old stand, when 
 
 Shandy was hiding. The boy, surmising that a galh^ 
 
 was OB, and anxious to see them as they rounded the 
 
 turn going down the back, had knocked a board loose 
 
 to widen the erack. As the horses came abreast. Shandy, 
 
 laaning forward in his eagerness, disk>^ it at the 
 
 top, and it fell with a clatter, carrying him half through 
 
 the qMBing. The wind was blowing fair across the 
 
 little stand, so tiie scent of the boy came to Diablo*s 
 
 Bostrils at the same instant the startling noise nacfaed 
 
 his nerrous ears. In a swerve he almost stopped, eray 
 
 muscle of his big body trembling in affright Porter 
 
 was nearly thrown from his seat by this crouching side 
 
 itep; thehorse seemed to shrink from under him. Just 
 
 C14SJ 
 
 -V 
 
 V* 
 
Ir 
 
 CHAPTER FIFTEEN 
 
 for an inrttnt, but the mm had flapped Ioom «ir.{n^ 
 
 ^phinged fonj«d like a wounded buck L ^ 
 J^7 after Lucretia, who had bolted whi the SS 
 
 rl!!^^ ^°"i i.'*^P ^ *^ "^d«^ t^t, and the 
 wrfM had . lipped through his fingers as he nabbed th« 
 
 m"^*"^'" -«-' ^ pSi'bis weXbi:c':^int 
 
 «.^ i!^*!.^^^ ""^^ ''■* ''*"i«bt and taut, flat- 
 
 V^m of Lucretia and Lauzanne in front, and urged 
 ^^^ ' ^''*?, ^^l"' ^"""^ in the'«ddle?S 
 
 ^i.!!?"^ ^*^ ^^* of hi. usual lethaigy, and idS- 
 mouthed, was pulling Allis out of the saMe ' 
 
 i« ^r* i5? *'7*^^" «"P^ ^^'t^'' burying his knees 
 
 l«d It, but missed ; the iioa, swinging yidouslv, cauAt 
 
 ii; If iS" ^*?S~? "»**' littk Serenoe, MslSSr 
 WMc^plete. AU the time Porter was knUdi,^ 
 
 l.iHSiJT^K^**'*"^**'' ^«»d-yJ" and, bradng 
 
 SsSL'riL'^ir"^^ '^ ^^^ *^ -^^^^* «' ^ 
 
 rofw^^v."^^* ^ ^? P"^^®^ •* t^e 'ocJf o' Gibraltar. 
 
 K^J head was up, his teeth set hard and the man's 
 
 ^^t T " °J?^ "«»^t tbe fuU-musded "--«- 
 «f«ie big horse. Diablo wai 
 
 [148] 
 
 itting down the lead the 
 
THOROUOHBRED8 
 
 othtr two held OTW him, galloping like a danon. Porter 
 felt that he muet looeen the bit and throw that let head 
 down to get oomnumd of the hone. One fierce yank to 
 the right and the black head swayed a trifle; another 
 to the left and — Qod in heaven I tiie rein napped, and 
 ita kxwe end came back, ilaahing the rider acroM tht 
 face. He reeled with the recoil, nearly bringing Diablo 
 to his knees with the sudden swing of weight on the 
 right rein. Porter's brain jerked foolishly for an in- 
 stant; then he was the trained horseman again, and 
 had let the remaining leather slip through his flngen 
 a trifle. , 
 
 ''Go onP he shouted to those in front; "go on^ 
 giro me a lead! Hang to the course T 
 
 He realised now that the crazed brute under him 
 must run himself out. All he could do was to sit ti^ 
 and wait till Diablo had raced himself to a standstilL 
 To use the one rein meant a crash into the rail, and 
 surely death. Before, he had thought only of tiw 
 horse's welfare; now it was a matter of his own lilb. 
 All that remained to him was to keep a oool head, a 
 steady nerve, and wait. 
 
 Preed of restraint, not battled with, the Blaek^ 
 stride lengthened, his nostrils spread wider, the hoatt 
 pounded quicker and quicker until the eurth eeiioed 
 with their palpitating beat. The other horses heard the 
 turmoil, and they, too, became more afraid, and took 
 up the mad rush. 
 
 Diablo's reaching r. jse was at Lauzanne's hip when 
 AUis took one swift backward glance. She saw tiie 
 daiij^ng rein, the set look in her father's face, the devil 
 ^res of the horse, and for one breath-gasp her heart 
 fluttered in its beat As quickly she put the fear from 
 
 [144] 
 
 V 
 
 o-i, 
 
CHAFTER FIFTEEN 
 
 h», and iwinging Lauiuuie a ihad* wids kft ni.ku 
 mow room next the ndl. "»«• wwe, len DitMo 
 
 kJfe ^^»*^n« '" -he caUed through drawn lint • and 
 hitched enoowagingly in the saddle^ «"wn iipt, and 
 
 mJS^ 7? "^ ^ '~°*' *^' "Peed mocking at the 
 •^ mrfi of Un«nne and Diablo. Bit h^S Black 
 Jg^l Eyery poet law him creeping np on the 
 ^nt, and Alii, riding and nursiighim t^^ew 
 
 not cruh through the outer rail. No one gpoke air^ 
 B-^toew that nothing wa. left to do Zt^& 
 to the oonne, and ride, ride. "•mim 
 
 Jurt in fiont of Leiuaime, with twinging .trfde nued 
 tt. bown m»e, wiuting tiU the CheSnt Z^^ 
 
 H^S^i°°* Judgment; and he wde « thongh ft 
 
 At the three quarters Lauzanne and Diablo wt^ 
 «J^d neck; at the half, the Black waTSTp^edT 
 I«mtia; another furlong and she was laboring toke^ 
 her pkoe, nose and nose with him. ^ 
 
 *I*Ba done," panted Carter, feelimr the uiak »»*m 
 "L^ir- "rm done-God helpl^' "^ '^'^ 
 
 Still there was no che6k in the Black's gaUop : he was 
 like a devil that could go on forever and Sv^^' ^ 
 
 neck to the bad, when Carter heard the girl's voice 
 ^tlycaUing,*Tullout,Nedr The boy ttoLhH 
 
 h^" ^'^S,*^'Sl?^^~^^'*^*^««*tthei' 
 
 aeels. He had thought him beaten off long aitt). But 
 
 •g«n the voice came, a little stronger, "Pull o^Nedr 
 
 This time there was no mistake. It might be a 
 
 [145] 
 
THOBOUOHBRBDS 
 
 minMsIe, Imt it wm hit duty to obey. Aa bo galloptd* 
 Carter edged LocretU to the right Without looking 
 bMk he could feel Tiewaanpe creeping np between him 
 and Diablo. Soon the Cheatnnfi head ihowed pott hia 
 elbow, and thejr were both lapped on the Black. Half- 
 way np the itreteh Allia waa riding atirmp to atirmp 
 with her father. Portvr'a wei|^t was tdUing on DiaUo. 
 'IBhe'i got him. Lansannell hold him if he doean't 
 qnit," Carter muttered, aa he dropped back, fbr Lucre- 
 tin ma blown. 
 
 Paet the flniah poet Lanaanne vaa a head in hwt, 
 and Dinbb waa gaUoping like a tired hone. 
 
 '*He'a beatr ejaculatdd Carter. <<HeUot thafa it. 
 eh? My word, what a girl r 
 
 He aaw Allia reach down for the alack rein running 
 from her father'a hand to Diablo'a month. "Miaaedf 
 Sbe'igotitr he cried, eagerly. '"Thederiir 
 
 Aa Allia grasped DUblo'a rein, the hone, with radden 
 fury At being drawn toward Lauaanne, his old foe^ 
 anqgped at the Chestnut Aa he did so, thrown out of 
 hia stride, his foietega crossed and he went down in n 
 heap with the rider underneath. The fbroe of hia 
 gallq> carried the Black full over onto his back. He 
 struggled to his feet, and stood, shaUng like a leaf, with 
 low-stretched neck and feaiHiocked ears, staring at tiit 
 crushed, silent figure that lay with its face smotherad 
 in the soft earth. In a doaen jumps Allia stopped Lau^ 
 zanne, threw herself from the saddle, and lenTing tiw 
 horse ran swiftly back to her father. 
 
 **0h, my GodI he's dead, he's deadl" ahe cried, 
 l^teoudy, the nerve that had stood the strain of the 
 florce ride utterly shattered and unstrung at tdfdxt of the 
 aenaeless f orm. 
 
 [1461 
 
 \- 
 
CHJkPTBR FIFTEEN 
 
 «2!- ^•^r'*^* J«t • Ud thdw-up. Mite's 
 
 ripkt, ICjj AUiK-hrtl be aU righV he faipt muttering 
 fa 1^ mMner, •• he rd*^ her feX'. hwSlto 
 
 *TWm Lncreti* and gallop for the doethor Mii> 
 
 gKjer father home in the buggy'* - 
 
 inTdL^l^J^SJ^ If ^ ^*' ^« " •"d bend. 
 «. S!l^if T^ her lipt to the eold forehead that 
 
 !?i^J!"'^*''"^ "Get him home quick, and tar 
 aot to let mother iee. ITl take Lanzanne?' '"'""^ 
 
 W.^^ i!\? '^^"^ ^ •"^ ^"^ "tiding waiting: 
 Wt b^f ^ fdl of a curioua wonderment. iLe wS 
 
 •tiVthen up at the girl. "Don't cry, Uim/* he said 
 
 ttcki; >r fatWi jnat ftnnned a bit. The do2t«S 
 brtoe him np all right" uucnwru 
 
 ^f • bad boiineM, thia,** he oontinned, aa Allii m1- 
 ^ on her «wnd, and he helped Carter lift the V 
 iMiJ Bto. "There, thaf. roight; jiat carry hi. !,«; 
 Ill take him under the baek." /««««■, 
 
 .. ^ ^ ?°!f? '^^^y *«^"* the buggy that itood in 
 fte iMdock, DiaWo followed at ^H^M^mi^ 
 he had done nothing in the world but take iTrnm 
 gno^ ^e bljdc diTUr muttered Mike, SSii^ 
 
 •Jiter breathed. If Fd me way, Fd ehoot ye. Vd 
 wmye into cat meat; thaf a what ye'r fit f or r 
 ^JWh^ broke the reinr he adced of Carter as thev 
 »etred the buggy; "what ttarted thim g^' ^^ 
 
 [U7] 
 
'■ ( 
 
 THOROUOHBREDS 
 
 ''SonMbody was in the old itaBd*" Ctrtor rapUed, ai 
 patting hii foot on tho it«p h« rtiiod himaelf and tho 
 doad iraight of tlie limp man. 
 
 'Thaie, ataady, Ned. Poll tha eniliion down in the 
 bottom. Now ye'fe got it. Bof fnmbal it'i aa good 
 aa an ambnlanoe. I'll hold hia head in me lap, an' je 
 dritt. Hati^ Finn," he oontinned, turning to the boy 
 who had otng^t and brought np Lncretia, ''take the 
 wee filly an' that divil'a baate back to the bam; pat tha 
 baated bridle by till I hare a good look at it after. Go 
 on» Ned; alow; thafa it, aiay doea it. When we get 
 out on the tampike ye can alip along." 
 
 When they had tnrn^ into the rmtd he apoke again 
 to Garter, '^e were aayin', Ned, there waa a gay in 
 th'onldatan'." 
 
 Tea," replied Carter; "lomebody waa toatin' na off. 
 A board broke, an' that frightened the boaa'a monni* 
 
 **1 fought I see a b'y skinnin' off the track." oom- 
 mented Giiynor. Tirat I f ou^t it waa Shandy, but 
 whafdhebedoin'there? Did ye aee hia face, Ned?" 
 
 *? waa too bnay takin* a wrap on Luoretia; ahe waa 
 gettin' A bit out of hand." 
 
 When they came to the gate which gare entrance to 
 Bingwood house Mike aaid to Carter, with rough qrm- 
 pathy in hia voice: ''Slip in ahead, Ned, and tell tha 
 ICiaBea that the boaa haa had a bit av a apill. Say he'a 
 juat atunned; no bonea broke. Bof fumbat thouj^ I 
 fear he'a madied to a jelly. Aak f er a bottle of braxidy 
 till we give him a bracer. Ned 1" he called, aa Cbffter 
 alipped from the buggy, ''see if ye kin kape the Miaaea 
 from aeein' the boaa till the doctiior comes. Git hould 
 of the girl Cynthie, an' give her the tip that thinga la 
 purty Iwd. Go on now; 111 driye slow wid wan hand." 
 
 [148] 
 
 V 
 
CHAPTER FIFTEEN 
 
 SS^^S "^^^^-^^f^rly fawnr that 4Z iiaJ! 
 
 •Wt jnrt bad, nui'tin/' Carter /ar «.-, nir, ., Vik. 
 ij-ched ihe tep.. But d« ^i„ Vt h..r h m'', 'r ,^ 
 
 fttr, but from her lipe c^lc , . en: h r wle 
 
 «OTe dmdfal th«i ifThe Mad crM ^ ' 
 
 **WeTl cany him, ma'. 
 
 iC 
 
 I oa* 
 
 <!»,» *k 7'" 7~T; -f'"*'" ^^ I^e fuid, oa *bo came 
 
 rim nrayed uMteadily. "Jeit git o hed re :y, MiiT- 
 Gaynor oontiimed, loftly; «git , U ; . »dv au' heTlL. 
 
 ^J^ help,- pleaded Mr.. Porter, .p•ddx^^ /or the 
 
 *W11 arry hun, Mii«»-he', jwd rtnimed," re- 
 £J!S;ii ./u"^.* ^'^ »«»notoiie, as feelkg each ateo 
 
 h^^hf^^'^i The wife had got one of the 
 i!2^ Jr**. between her own, and wa. walking wwJ 
 
 OJohn,JotoI Speaktome. Open yonr eye. and 
 
 SlL^lJ*f^P^'^'^**^y' ^"'^king doin, and a 
 ZZl *~^,«? *?" «»»ii»« to SelSt, dry eye. J 
 ^^ laid Porter on the bed that'c^Sthirhad 
 
 ''There, Miiw., don't take on now," pleaded Mika. 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 -\ 
 
 *The boM is jot Btuimed; thafs alL I've been that 
 way a doaen toimei meeelf /' he added, by way of aa- 
 raranoe. ^'Where's the brandy? Lift his head, Ned; 
 not so much. See V* he cried, exultantly, as the strong 
 liquor caused the eyelids to quiver; ''see. Misses, he's 
 all roij^t; he's jest stunned; thafs alL There's the 
 dochtor now. Qod bless the little wonum! She wasn't 
 long!" 
 
 The sound of idieels crunching the gravel, with a 
 sudden stop at the porch, had come to their ears. 
 
 "Come out av the room. Ma'am," Mike besought Mrs. 
 Porter ; ''come out av the rooman' lave the docthor bring 
 the boss 'round." He signaled to Cynthia wiih his eyes 
 for help in this argument 
 
 "Yes, Mrs. Porter," seconded Cynthia, "go out to the 
 porch; Miss Allis and I will remain here with the 
 doctor to get what's needed." 
 
 "Ah, a fall, eh," commented Dr. B&thbone, cheerily, 
 coming briskly into the room. Then he cauj^t Mike's 
 eye; it closed deliberately, and the Irishman's head 
 tipped never so slightly toward Mrs. Porter. 
 
 "Now 'dear the room,' as they say in court," ocm- 
 tinned the doctor, with a smile, understanding Mike's 
 signal. "We mustn't have people about to agitate Porter 
 when he comes to his senses. Ill need Cynthia, and per^ 
 haps you'd better wait, too, Gaynor. Just tate care of 
 yonr mother. Miss Allis. Ill have your fathm about 
 in a jiffy." 
 
 "He's jest stunned; thaf s all I" added Mike, witii hit 
 kindly, parrot-like repetition. 
 
 It seemed a million years to the wife that she waited 
 for the doctor's outcoming. Twice she cried in angnidi 
 to Allis that she must go in; must see her husband. 
 
 [150] 
 
CHAPTER FIFTEEN 
 
 ^^^^i "t P'«»^«^f >d I may never ^ hi. 
 
 Wait here, mother/* commanded the ffirl "Doetni. 
 Batiibone wiU teU ns if-if-« she could fot fi^e 
 
 Sto ^« M^«^ finnly in her own, kept her Jth! 
 2Jw. ^ ^^^* ''^V*"^ "^^' "H«'« jest stunned, 
 
 ^ wo^'^^"' "^^ '^" ^ ^ "^«^* »>y "^^y 
 
 rt^";X's"alir"" "^ "^^°' ^•'""' ^^-^'^^ 
 ^jaere was another long wait, then Dr. Bathbone ap- 
 
 itTl^^^ «r" ^ f "«^*' ^^^> i«l t*ke time; 
 te^t^'l^tr?**?.r^«- But you're getting used 
 
 nxeoiy at AUis, 'Tie must have quiet: excitement will 
 do more harm than the faU/' «*ciwment win 
 
 "Tell me the truth, doctor," pleaded Mrs. Porter 
 
 .tSS^*^ ^*' f'^i '"^ Pl«^« ^th hands on^' 
 •holders, «I can stand ii^-^, I'm brave « 
 
 «r^* * <lte*^l*7*^' J^"- Po^'/' the doctor an- 
 
 STL q^tt rfe^da^r" '"^^^'^ ^^^^ 
 
 She looked into bis eyes. Then oninff "T h.n.™ 
 
 7»«, doctor; thuik God for hi. ^^"i^yS^i 
 
 Snell be better after that" utiA ♦i.o ^«1* j 
 *«»WAlli.. «Ith.,he.nijr^*ttf^r;^- 
 
 o»o™»ion. CyS^'°^^otwStw^'^ 
 
 tUl] 
 
\ 
 
 i 1 
 
 XVI 
 
 Arbr Dr. Rathbone had left Mike and Carter went 
 down to the stables. 
 
 'Ill jest have a lo(A at that broke rein/' said Oay- 
 nor; 'that sthrap was strong enough to hang Diablo. 
 If there's not some dirty business in this, I'll eat me 
 hat. Tumbs up! but it was a gallop, though. The 
 Black kin move whin he* wants to." 
 
 ''But what do you think of old Lauzanne ?" exclaimed 
 Carter. "He just wore Diablo down, hiy^; to him like 
 a bulldog, an' beat him out." 
 
 ^t was the girl's ridin' ; an' Lausanne was feared, too. 
 He's chicken-hearted ; that's what he is. Scmie day in 
 a race he^l get away in front av his horses, an' beat *em. 
 by the length av a street. Hell be a hun'red to waa, 
 an' nobodyll have a penny on." 
 
 When they arriTed at the stable Mike beaded straif^ 
 for the harness room. The light ms dim, eoning froaa 
 a small, high, two-paned window; but Mike ki^w where 
 every bridle and saddle shmild be. He put his hand <« 
 Diablo's headgear, and Imnging it down carried it 
 through the passage to a staUe door where he ex- 
 amined it minutely. 
 
 "Jest what I fought. Look at that," and he handed 
 it to Carter for inspection. "How do ye size that 
 up, Ned r 
 
 "The rein's been cut near through," implied Carter. 
 "I wonder it held as long as it did." 
 
CHAPTER SIXTEEN 
 
 i..!!^?^L^'?**^*^*'^'"«»»°»«>»t«d Mike. «ni 
 ^ UbjK* <m the p^ jnst now, but don't «« ii .giS 
 
 As he Mteied the saddle room briskly ]m heel 
 dipped on the pknk floor, bringing hiTdJwT «^ 
 U^me oath that was a baniTSl, if it wITon ^ 
 
 iwuJy dislocated his neck. "Some of ye fellowais 
 pietty careless wit* hoof grease, I'm thinkS' - ^ 
 
 More out of curiosity than anythiwr else he Mn«<l 
 A)^ at the (^use of his sudden sh7^matl«^ 
 
 V Jjf!Tl: '^'^ *^^« ^f**"*- HaTe aither of ye 
 
 ^^'L'?'''^^^^^^^ It's agin the rul^y' 
 
 H 1S^> ^V"^^ ."•?"* '^' ^^ "^^ yo^ know 
 K, Mifce, <»ed Carter, indignantly. 
 
 JWrew» prospecting the floor with anotiier light 
 
 the« ^>^^ °^*'^'*" ^« continued, picking 
 
 ^r Z^Ji *^^ were loighted last night, toS. ^ 
 
 i%^^ ^*^' " *^* «»««« thattbey waS 
 
 n JiJf« i ?1 *^^- ^ ^^'^ ^^y '^ loi^ted last 
 
 a^re fresh, an' ain't been ta-amped on. If they'd been 
 
 S^f h*^" 11 "^ ^y«' ~i^^*^ front ofTdt" 
 ^y'd have the black knocked oflf 'em wid ye W 
 
 feet This wan didn't light at aU har^vTn> ^ere?l 
 littk wool fu2z stickin' to it Geel thi ^-« 
 
 z^ftnf « ?° 1' ™' ^^ ^^ ^ >^. ns: 
 
 ^rap. well fin' out suE-jthin' more. The light frS 
 th^,lugl. up winder «n't good enongh tlrZ^I 
 
 lisa] 
 
THOBOUGHBREDB 
 
 When the leBtern iru brou^t, Mike oontiiraed his 
 deteotiye opentioBi, nose and eyee ekwe to the floor, 
 like a black tracker. 
 
 ''Whafa that, Nedr he adEcd, pointing his finger at 
 e dark brown qfiot on the boards. 
 
 Carter cnradied and sentinized Mike's find, '^o- 
 baeae q>it,'' aid hs ga?e a little laugh. 
 
 '^ight yon am; tiiafs what it is. Now who chawi 
 tobaecie in tkia stabler he demanded of Carter, with 
 the air of a eroes-examining oonnaeL 
 
 1 don't'* 
 
 'T)oesFinnr 
 
 "No; I don't think so." 
 
 <a>idn't Shandy alway* have a gob of it in his che^— 
 the dirty pig?" 
 
 "Yes, he did, Mike." 
 
 '1 fought so; I fought it was that blackguard. But 
 how did the swine get in here? The stable was looked, 
 an' I had the key in me pocket 111 take me oath to 
 that." 
 
 Carter took his cap off, ran a hand reflectiTely up and 
 down the crown of his head, canvassing ererj poiuiliii 
 mtry there might be to the stalls. Suddenly he z«- 
 {daced his cap and whistled softly. '1 know, Mike; he 
 crawled through the dung window. I've seen him do U 
 half a dozen tinMS. When he was too Usy to go f or tiM 
 keys, he'd wi^^le through that hole." 
 
 Ifike said nothing, but led the way to the back of the 
 aiabte. There he dhnbed upon the pile of rotting straw, 
 and examined closely the smaU, square (q>ening, with its 
 board slide, through which Shandy had passed the ni|^ 
 before. 
 
 <QodI I fought sol" he ejaculated. ''Here's more 
 
 [10«] 
 
 **i 
 
CHAPTER SIXTEEN 
 
 i^S!!^*?"'.''^'!. *^ ^^"^^ ^^ ■t«>d when he 
 opened the winder/* 
 
 K^^^ ^^^ ^ ^ **^^* **»« «^* 0' something 
 bright deep in the Btraw. He dug his hand down into 
 
 ttffl maw and brought np a knife. ''Whose is that, 
 Xfedr' he quened. 
 
 Carter looked at it cloeely. "Shand/s/* he answered ; 
 ITl swear to that. IVe borrowed it from him more 
 tlun once to clean out the horses' hoofs ** 
 
 «Bof thumbs upl rd hang that b'y to a beam if 1 
 had bun here He cut that rein as sure ns God made 
 httte apples," declared Mike, yehemently. "An' the gall 
 ay bun to go an' sit there in the ould stand to watch the 
 Black run away wif somewan an' kiU 'em. Now jest 
 kape yer mouth shut, Ned, an' we'U put a halter on this 
 rooster. By hivinsl when I git him 101 make him 
 
 C165] 
 

 xvn 
 
 Thx seriousness of Porter's accident became deanv 
 to Doctor Bathbone the following day. He imparted 
 this information to Allis; told her that in all proba> 
 bility it would be weeks before her father would be 
 strong again. 
 
 '*In the meantime, little woman, what are you to do 
 with all these hungry horses on your hands ?*' he asked. 
 
 The girl's answer came quickly enough, for she had 
 lain awake through all the dreary night, thinking out 
 this i»oblem. Without medical knowledge she had felt 
 certain that her father was badly injured, and the 
 gloomy future had come to her in the darkness instead 
 of sleep. 
 
 'TU look after them," she answered the doctor, quita 
 simply. 
 
 A smile of skepticism hovered about his full lips, aa 
 he raised his eyes to the girl's face, but the look of deter^ 
 mination, of confidence that he met put his ^ubts to 
 flight. "I believe you can do it, if any man can," and 
 he put his big hand on her slight shoulders, as much aa 
 to say, **I'm behind you; I believe in you." 
 
 Of course an inkling of Porter's condition had to be 
 given his wife, though the fall gravity was masked. 
 This was done by Allis, and Mrs. Porter immediately 
 became a prey to abject despair. 
 
 The first thing to be done was to get rid of Diublo. 
 She was too gentle to ask that he be shot, but he must 
 
 [156] 
 
 r 
 
CHAPTER SEVENTESN 
 
 90, evoi if ha be giren kwkj. She would willingly hxn 
 •acrifloed all the hones. Always with their pnaenoe 
 had oome financial troubles, spiritual tronbles; now the 
 liyes of those dear to her were in actual peril No 
 wonder the good woman was rendered hysterical by the 
 strong emotions that swayed her. 
 
 In her depression she somewhat startled Allis by in- 
 nsting that they must send for Mr. Crane at once. 
 After all, it was not so unreasonable; with the master 
 of Bingwood helpless, who else could they consult with 
 0T» their entangled condition? For the past year 
 Porter had found it necessary to keep in constant touch 
 with the bank; so they must become familiar with the 
 details of the entanglement. 
 
 Mrs. Porter had come to have the utmost confidence 
 in Crane's friendship and ability; he was the one above 
 all (^hers to haye Diablo taken df their hands. So 
 Philip Crane, to his intense delight, was summoned to 
 Bingwood. This was his first knowledge <rf Porter's 
 mishap, for he had been in N«w York. 
 
 Crane was supposed to possess a rare magnetim; 
 most certainly men came under his infiln^ce with a 
 noiseless, cheerful complaisance. It may have been that 
 there was a slight fascination in the oblique contour of 
 his eyes, but in reality his power lay in his exquisite 
 finesse; people delved for him under the impression 
 that they were laboring according to the dictates of their 
 own sweet wills. Figuratively spedring, he twisted Mrs. 
 P»rter round his finger, and so delightfully, that she 
 was filled with gratitude becaase of Crane's Hniiiain 
 in their hour of trouble. 
 
 The matter of Diablo was settled in a minute; he 
 would buy the horse himself, and the price could be 
 
 [157] 
 
»-. s 
 
 THOROUOHBREDS 
 
 Mwnj^ whan Mn. Ptorter wai able to diaooM the mat- 
 tw^thtt is, definitely; in the meantime he would paj 
 » thoMand for him. He understood Porter had bonSt 
 mm for that price. With a touch of kindly hn^ 
 Crane declared that he would have a imaU bet on the 
 horse for Allis the first time he started. 
 Bjyond parting with Diablo, Allis would not go 
 
 Sf^ii ""***"! "??®' °' ■^'^ ^ ^^^i ^ ^ 
 tte fuU extent of her concession to the mother. Had 
 rfie imown that her father had entered Diablo in the 
 Brooklyn Handicap she might even have refused to 
 
 E^'Ii.v^ ^^'*- ^ ^* happened, Porter had en- 
 tered both Lucretia and Diablo in the Brooklyn a day 
 or so before his accidenii but had not spoken of it 
 
 Crane assured Mrs. Porter that she need not distract 
 lier mind oyer money matters, the bank could easily 
 any their load until her husband was himself agaiiL 
 No matter how things turned out, it was a ddicate 
 matt^ to touch upon, the possibility of Porter's condi- 
 tion takmg a serious turn, but coming from Crane it 
 MOTjed like an earnest of his sincerity-well, Mrs. 
 PortCT would find a friend in him, quite willing and 
 able to smooth their diflBksult path. ^^ 
 
 Crane had meant to defer any protestations of regard 
 Tor AUm until a propitious future, but with his quick 
 perception he saw that the psydiological moment had 
 been moved forward by the sudd^ eflfacement of the 
 master of Bii^ood. If he spoke now to Mm. Porter 
 It would give her a right to call upon his services. He 
 would appear in the light of a debtor; it would break 
 down barners which might seem to exist because of 
 tneir non-relationship. 
 Crane had not been without a suspicion that the 
 
 [158] 
 
 -\ 
 
'AS' 
 
 CHAPTEH SEVENTEEN 
 
 jmgfirmMn, Mortimer, might piote « rival- hmwnt^ 
 
 ^Lf !,*J?«''t with ««ne MMUct^ w pXuj 
 
 u» ground had been prepared for the leed fm. «! 
 
 «. not without worl5lySlC^etL?ta«nS 
 
 mn; • nch banker, who would m,}a • Z^ Lh^u! 
 hmbuid for her datwhtor Of «»rL u *5»l>Io 
 rit» the ^rl her»ll '£,\oZZZ L^ Z 
 ?f r« '"'i ""t why Aould not ^Z^^ 
 
 Mm. Porter', mind had rebounded fiSi ita daaed 
 conitwn after h« hn.l»nd'a accident, and V^ 
 
 TLJf.,^ ^v"**"" ••"»* *» her with rapidi^ 
 -S^ *^ jnth maaterl, judgment. ^ ^' 
 
 J»t f J^^*?'CL"TS''r ?"' "* 'P-k to Alii, he 
 
 •uy. and would plead hig can^e with lees dumce rf 
 
 £159] ««nw« 
 
THOROUOHBREDB 
 
 flilim than if he itartM Allit 1^ ths raddtn frantii^ 
 of life*! great problem. 
 
 When Crane had gone Allii found her mother calmed 
 bjhiivieit; hie airaranoea had driren away diitreaaing 
 donda of financial worry. 
 
 Almoet immediately Mrt. Porter transmitted to the 
 girl what had oome to her of Crane's dedaration. 
 
 **li teems almost like an answer to my prayer,** she 
 said to Allis; '*not, of course"— she interrupted herself 
 — ^"that IVe been praying for a husband for yon, bnt 
 this wicked racing has warped the whole woof of my 
 life; it seemed ineritable in the strength of its con- 
 taminating atmosphere that you would be wedded into 
 it, though one were better ctead than willingly duxMO 
 a path of sin." 
 
 'Then you've settled it, mother r Allis's big eyei 
 took on a dangerous look of rebellion. 
 
 "No, daughter; yon must choose for yourself; only 
 you will be wise not to go contrary to your parent's 
 wishes. Idid— " 
 
 "But you are not sorry, mother?" there was reproach 
 in the girl's voice. 
 
 "Not for having wedded your father, but because of 
 his racing life. I should have been firmer, and asked 
 him to give it up before I married him. He might have 
 done it then. Mr. Crane is a gentleman, AlUs. That 
 is a great deal nowadays, and he loves you most sin- 
 cerely. Words often mt^an very little, but one can tell — 
 at least when they've come to years of discretion they 
 can — from a man's voice whether he is in earnest or 
 not. I suppose it is very worldly to speak of his riches, 
 but in poverty one can do very little, very little good. I 
 had rather that you didn't have to lode with misgiving 
 
 [160] 
 
CEAPTEB SEVENTEEN 
 
 iBio the tutvM, Allit; it hai takm much Joj <mt of mr 
 tikttnoe. Th« dntd of poverty ie e rightmue; it 
 pern one's life thieadbMe. To the yotiUg, buoyed up 
 by oonfldenoe in the roey future, thie umj seem •ordid, 
 hut thie feeling of iniecnrity man tatny lives which 
 mii^t otherwise be happy. 
 
 "You see, Allis," her mother continued, "I know 
 you tie heart-whole, so I can't cause you any misery 
 by my well-meant advice. You've been a good girl, and 
 there has been nobody of your class about. Mr. Mor- 
 timer is, I dare say, a gentleman, and I must confess I 
 was afraid that you might mistake a feeling of gen- 
 erosity to him for something stronger; but that was 
 only an idle fancy, I see. It would have been unfor- 
 tunate if it vrere otherwise, for he is veiy poor indeed. 
 His small salary must be all taken up in keeping him- 
 sdf, his widowed mother, and a younger sister." 
 
 Allis gave a sudden start. She had not known these 
 particulars of Mortimer's life; but they carried certain 
 explanations of his conduct. Quite casually she had 
 formed an impression that he was penurious; some- 
 thing he had dropped about not being able to afford 
 certain pleasures. That was where the money went— 
 to support his mother and sister. Unwittingly her 
 mother was pleading the cause of two men. 
 
 The mother's talk depressed Allis greatly. Why 
 should this troublesome matter come to her when she 
 had so much to bear, so much to do. It gave her quite 
 a shock to find that as her mother talked she was not 
 thmking of Crane at aU. She could not picture his 
 face, even; just the narrow-lidded eyes peeped at her 
 in her thoughts once or twice; it would be horrible to 
 look mto them forever and ever. The face of Mortimer 
 
 [161] 
 
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 *' 
 
 THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 pale and firm-set as it had been in that day of strife, 
 was always obliterating the other visage. Was her 
 mother right? Was she so heart-whole? 
 
 As if her thoughts had bearing on her mother's mind, 
 the latter said: "I wouldn't have spoken to you of this 
 matter while your father is so ill if it weren't for the 
 fact that our position is very precarious. I can't under- 
 stand just how badly oflf we are, but if anything were to 
 happen your father, I hardly know what would become 
 of us." 
 
 "And Mr. Crane has promised to help us if— if— » 
 There was a hard ring in the girl's voice as she spoke, 
 getting not past the "if,", refusing to put into words the 
 distressing thought. 
 
 "There is no *if' about it, daughter. Mr. Crane is 
 our friend, your father's friend, and he is going to help 
 us; and he only spoke of his regard for you by way of 
 an excuse— it was delicacy on his part, thinking that I 
 would have less compunction in accepting his good 
 offices. All I ask, girl, is that you will try to like Mr. 
 Crane; if you can't, well, you won't find me making 
 you unhappy. But I can teU you this, Allis, unless 
 matters mend, and how the change is to come I can't 
 say, your father wiU lose Ringwood and it will belong 
 to Mr. Crane. Even if the horses were sold off, the 
 money would not clear the debts; besides, I think that 
 even the horses are encumbered." 
 
 Allis stood in indecision for a little, thinking deeply; 
 then she went up to her mother, and, taking her face in 
 her hands, kissed her. 
 
 "I understand, mother," she said, "you are worrying 
 over the dear old place, over my future, and over father, 
 and it is nothing but worry, worry, worry all the time. 
 
 [16«] 
 
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 
 
 S}f i3!«T ^^?«^°?^ ^^"^ yo«> "mother. I hope father 
 
 S^T mother, I promise yon that no matter what 
 
 effort It a>8t8 me you sha Vt sacrifice the dear old place." 
 
 Mrs. Porter's eyes were wet with tears of gratitude. 
 
 She was thinking only of the redemption of the place 
 
 Si«iV *if f ''^^^ '*^^ *^«^' '^'t^es without sacri- 
 
 b^vf i'""" *' ^'T' ^^ "°*' ^^ «^« f«led, she was 
 brave, she was a Porter, and would keep her ;ord and 
 save Emgwood, even at that price. 
 
 [l«t] 
 
xvm 
 
 JouBNETiNG back to New York, Crane reviewed in 
 detail his interview with Mrs. Porter. He congratn- 
 lated himself upon his wisdom in having instituted his 
 love suit by proxy. With all his masterfuhiess he was 
 very considerably in awe of Miss Allis. There was a 
 not-to-be-daunted expression in her extraordinary eyes 
 which made hun feel that a love tilt with her would 
 be a somewhat serious Business. He pictured himself 
 as an ardent lover; he would cut a droU figure in that 
 role, he knew; emotions were hardly in his line. He 
 might feel such an assertive emotion as love quite as 
 steongly as anyone, in fact, did, but could he express 
 himself with faultless consistency? He rather doubted 
 It His usual slow-advancing method was certainly or- 
 dained of this intricate endeavor; and he had made 
 great progress with the mother, the one above all others 
 to be placated; adversity, continuous as it promised to 
 ^, would probably settle Porter's influence in his favor 
 His plan of action plainly was to be often at Eingwood 
 to familiarize the household with his presence. The 
 acqumng of Diablo would facilitate that. 
 
 Diablo-a skate! He laughed to himself over his 
 purchase. Certainly Langdon would laugh at him, too • 
 not openly, of course; Crane wouldn't tolerate that.' 
 What an influence this girl had over him, to be sure! 
 Any man who had endeavored to sell him a bad horse 
 would have had a hopeless task; with but a nod of 
 
 [164] 
 
r-' 
 
 CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 
 
 S^^fStT* '~,°' ^^ ^" ^^^^ h»^e bought eTery 
 h^^U the unless crooks they had; the steble^ 
 fall of them, Lauzanne among the rest. 
 
 The influence was dividing his nature into a dual 
 one; starting into life infantile thoughts of a geiero^ 
 morah^; an unrest of great vigor wis comiLTwT 
 
 oetween an avanciousness, fathering dishonesty and 
 this new recognition of other rights •*"°"esiy, j^nd 
 
 /a bought a horse at Ringwood. I want you to look 
 ^er hun Langdon,- he said. "Their mi^ Q^^r 
 wiU send him direct to your stables/* ^ ' 
 
 %relI;U"r"a!l';^>'-" '"«^*^"^- ™ you get Lu- 
 1^0 ; I bought a big black, Diablo." 
 
 set S'ilJt! V ""!!?* '?°''*"° **"'*^ *^»* ever wore a 
 
 Clean tlm)ugh. It*s come down to him from his seeoTiil 
 ^, Eobert the Devil, without a bit of th^^ Sr 
 He d break a man that would follow him." 
 vn„ ir"" t**'®*,^ ""^ " answered Crane, quietly; «hor 
 
 This subtle tnbute mollified the Trainer 
 Crane proceed : «I remember the hors; quite well 
 Four tiiousand was paid for him as a yearliV T a 
 bvo-yearK,ld he was tried out good enough to winll^ 
 
 'That's right," commented Langdon. ''He owes me 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 a good bit, that same Johnny; his people thought hiir. 
 a lead-pipe cinch, and I went down the line on him to 
 my sorrow." 
 
 ''Just so. Yon know him as well as I do. If s a 
 great way to get acquainted with them, isn't it, Lang- 
 don; put your money on, and have the good thing go 
 downr 
 
 Langdon had the highest possible opinion of his 
 master's astuteness and began to waver in his antipathy 
 to Diablo. 
 
 *'YovL think he's really good, then, <(ir; did he show 
 you a fast trial P* 
 
 **I didn't even see t6e horse," Crane answered, look- 
 ing dreamily out oi the window. *1 bought him 
 to—" 
 
 He paused in reflection ; he couldn't tell Tiangdon why 
 he had bought him, and he hardly cared to have his 
 prestige with the Trainer destroyed. He ccmtiiiued, 
 shifting the subject-matter a trifle, "fou ilid John 
 Porter up over Lauzanne last summer, Langdon — '* 
 
 'lie?" questioned the Trainer. Was Crane forget- 
 ting his share in the matter? 
 
 'Tes, you !" affirmed the other, looking him steadily 
 in the eye. 'Tou sold him Lauzanne, and TAnMnn^ 
 was loaded." 
 
 Langdon said nothing. What the devil was coming? 
 
 '*WeU," drawled Crane, 'Torter's badly hurt; he^i 
 out of the race for some time to come. They're friends 
 of mine—" 
 
 ''They're friends," mused Langdon; ''who in thundn 
 •re theyf* 
 
 "They're friends of mine, and I offered to buy Lan- 
 sanne back, just to help them out; but the old man'i 
 
 £166] 
 
 "^^^ 
 
 -<• - ! 
 
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 
 
 daughter has got the Chestnut for a hack, and she won't 
 seU hun. It was Diablo's fault that Porter got the faU. 
 to tiiey were willing to part with him, and I took the 
 Drute. 
 
 This was certainly a new role for Crane to play. 
 I^ngdon thought; his employer helping people out 
 jjen they were in difficulties was a revelation. The 
 Trainer felt inclined to laugh. No doubt there was 
 sraaethmg back of it aU; some tout must have given 
 Crane mfonnation of a fast gallop Diablo had done. 
 «ttd he had gone to Bingwood to buy the horse, thinking 
 that Porter would be selling some of his racers owing 
 to the accident. ^ 
 
 Langdon tried to remember what Shandy had said 
 about Diablo, or whether the boy had mentioned his 
 name at all. 
 
 *T wonder what condition he's in?" the Tiainer re- 
 marked, questioningly. 
 
 'Thysically I think he's aU right; it seems he gal- 
 loped something under forty miles with Porter before 
 he cune a cropper. But I understand they had an imp 
 of a boy, Sheedy, or Shaney— ■" 
 
 "Shandy," corrected Langdon. 
 
 "Yes, thaf 8 the name," affirmed Crane, drawing a 
 semiorcle m the air with his cigar, "and he's a devil 
 on wheels, by all accounts. Diablo's no angel, as you've 
 Mid,^ Langdon and this boy made him a heap worse. 
 Youve handled some bad horses in your time, and 
 toow more about it than I do; but I'd suggest that you 
 put We8tley-.he's a patient lad-to look after the 
 Black; give him quite a bit of work, and when you've 
 got him right, try him out with something, and if he 
 shows any form we'U pick out a soft spot for him Let 
 
 [167] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 me Bee, he's a maiden— fancy that, buying a fonr-year- 
 old maiden t'' 
 
 Langdon laughed approvingly. Crane was eyidently 
 coming back to his view of the case. 
 
 "WeU, as I've said, he's a maiden, and well tiy and 
 graduate him out of that class. It will be a great 
 chance for a killing if we can round him into his early 
 iwo-year-old form; and you can do it, Langdon, if any- 
 body on earth can " 
 
 "Now I've got him on his reputation," thought Crane, 
 idly brushing specks of cigar ash from the front of his 
 coat. ) 
 
 "Just as I thought," mused Langdon ; "the old man's 
 got a horse after his own heart. Everybody thinks 
 Dicblo's no good, but the boss has found out something, 
 and is on for the biggest kind of a coup." 
 
 "How's The Dutchman coming onP' asked Crane, 
 intimating by the question that the subject of Diablo 
 bad been closed out, for the present, at least. 
 
 "Great. He cleans up his four quarts three times a 
 day, and is as big as a cart horse. I never had a better 
 doer in my hands. If he keeps well, and I think he wiU, 
 you have a great chance with him for the Brooklyn 
 Derby." ' 
 
 "Thafs encouraging. There are some good horses in 
 it, though. White Moth and others. However, I'M back 
 The Dutchman to win fifty thousand, and there'll be 
 ten thousand in that for you, Langdon, if it comes off." 
 The Trainer's mouth watered. Money was his god. 
 Horses were all right as a means to an end, but the end 
 itself was gold. He would stop at nothing to attain 
 that end; his avaricious mind, stimulated by Crane's 
 promise, came at once to the disturbing element in the 
 
 [168] 
 
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 
 
 plffuani proq)ect. Shandy's report of Lucretia'i mod 
 form. • 
 
 *T)id you find out anything about Porter's mare 
 
 I;T^ L^r ^.^** ^°*^'« '°"»J both fit and 
 well. The Dutchman holds him safe over the Derbv 
 journey.** *^iu/ 
 
 l^o; I didn't hear anything about Porter's mare." 
 I have, said Langdon, decisively. "I paid a boy to 
 keep an eye on her, and he says she'll be hard to beat " 
 
 «sSnd'^''^^^* **^** ^^^' ^® ***^* •^'^P*^^- 
 "Well, just drop that; chuck that game. John 
 Porter has his own troubles. If he can win, let him. 
 He can't If The Dutchman keeps weU; but anyway 
 our own horses will keep us fully occupied " 
 
 Langdon was dumbfounded. If Crane had opened 
 the Bible and read a chapter from St. Luke he wiuld 
 fi? \ u J^^"**''® astonished. It had occurred to him 
 that he had done a remarkably smart thing; he had 
 expected commendation for his adroitness in looking 
 
 -■^f Z ^f^l ^*''^*'- '^^ disapprobation of 
 Buch a tnvial matter as the touting off of an opponent's 
 horses was another new discovery in his master^ char- 
 
 ;^!m ^^^ ""^^ *^^y **' *°y^*y^ Presently Crane 
 would be asking him to give the public a fair run for 
 tneir money each time out. 
 
 AU at once a light dawned upon Langdon. Crane 
 was doubling on him. He saw it like a flash. His em- 
 ployer had a tout on the ground himself; that was how 
 he had got next some good performance of Diablo's. 
 My but it was clever; he could appreciate it. Crane 
 rose m his estimation again. 
 
 Quite humbly he answered: 'Tery weU; ifs not mv 
 
 [169] ' 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 fimenl; 111 bring The Dntchnum to the poft fit to 
 nm the rtce of hii life. If Lucretia beats him it won't 
 be my fault. I thought perhaps you might irant to 
 hedge a bit on Porter's mare.*' 
 
 "I don't think it. Ill stand The Drtchman; then 
 are too many in to start backing them all. Let me know 
 if the Black gives you any encouragement, and 111 see 
 about placing him." 
 
 After Langdon had gone Crane lighted a fresh cigar 
 and let his thoughts circle about Allis and Diablo. It 
 would be just like the play of Fate for the horse to turn 
 out good, now that John porter had got rid of him. 
 When evil fortune set its hard face against a man he 
 could do little toward making the wicked god smile, 
 and Porter, even when he was about, was a poor hand 
 at compelling success. 
 
 Jakey Paust learned of Diablo's transition from 
 Porter's to Langdon's stable. This information caused 
 him little interest at first; indeed, he marveled some- 
 what at two such clever men as Crane and Langdon 
 acquiring a horse of Diablo's caliber. 
 
 Faust's business relationship with Crane was to a 
 certain degree tentative. Crane never confided utterly 
 in anybody; if agents obeyed his behests, well and good; 
 and each transaction was always completed in itself. 
 He had discovered Faust and used him when it suited 
 his purpose. 
 
 Some time after the purchase of Diablo, Jakey, read- 
 ing his Morning Telegraph, came with much interest 
 upon the entries for the Brooklyn Handicap, published 
 that day. They were all the old campaigning Handi- 
 cap horses, as familiar to Faust as his fellow members 
 
 [170] 
 
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 
 
 oi the betting ring. Ai hit e. i nm down the long Urt 
 a sadden little pig grant of nirpriae bubbled up 
 throngh hie fat throat. "Gee, Diablo! Oh, ho. M^ 
 Craner 
 
 He tore out the Uit and put it in hii pocket; then 
 he Mt for a time, thinking. The reiult was a run down 
 to Graresend to pay just a friendly visit to Luigdon. 
 
 As far as Crane was concerLed, the Trainer and the 
 Bookmaker were like two burglars suddenly coming 
 apon each other while robbing the same house; they 
 were somewhat In a condition of armed neutrality 
 toward each other. 
 
 Faust hoped that Langdon would talk about Diablo; 
 but the Trainer was like most of his guild generally, a 
 dose-mouthed man, so Jakey had to make his own run- 
 ning. 
 
 ♦'Whafs the boss goin' to do with Diablo r he 
 asked Langdon. 
 
 "Must *Te bought him for a work horse, I goeM," the 
 Trainer answered. 
 
 "Is he any goodP* 
 
 "He can eat; thafs all I see from him yet." 
 
 *niniat did he buy him for?*' 
 
 "To help a snoozer that was sittin* in bad luck.* 
 
 Faust had an odd habit of causing his fat sides to 
 ripple like troubled water when he wished to convey 
 the impression that he was amused; he never laushed. 
 just the rib ripple. ^ ' 
 
 "What's funny r Langdon asked, eying Jakey, with 
 querulous disfavor. 
 
 "Crane buying a horse to help a man/* answered the 
 Cherub, wondering if Langdon was so devoid of humor 
 aa to take it seriously. 
 
 im] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 .J*?^*.*®^** "• *^ hinuelf," Mid the Triiner; 
 Tortert hurt, an' I guew they're in a hole, an' the 
 boM took over Diablo." 
 
 "Say, Dick," and Fauit edged doie enough to tap 
 the other man's ribt with hit thumb, "were you born 
 yerterdayP I lay," continued the Cherub, for Ungdon 
 hid turned away somewhat impatiently, "what's the 
 good ay givin' me that gup; you didn't sUnd for it 
 yourself—not on yer life. Th' old man's pretty slick: 
 buys a bad horse to help a poor mutt, an' enters him in 
 the Brooklyn, eh?" 
 
 me Brooklyn I" exclaimed Langdon, thrown off hit 
 guard. 
 
 With corpulent intensity the Cherub melodramatio- 
 aUy drew from his pocket the Telegraph clipping and 
 tendered It to Langdon, watching the tatter's face 
 doeely. "That's the pea, Dick, eh ?" he asked. 
 
 Langdon was thinking. Was Crane doubling on him 
 all around? Why the devU hadn't he told him? 
 
 Tfow you ain't takin' in that fairy tale of Crane's 
 any more'n I am, Dick. Why can't we do a bit for our- 
 selves over this; it won't hurt the boss none. Won't 
 throw him down. This horse was a good youngster, 
 an Cr^e didn't get him without seein' him doiwme- 
 thin . You jest keep me posted, an' if he shapes good I 
 can back 'm fer an old-time killin', see? I'U di^ up 
 straight." ^ '^ 
 
 Langdon didn't enswer at once— not with satisfac- 
 tion to Faust; he knew that Crane held the butter for 
 his bread, even the bread itself; but here was a man 
 with cake, and he loved cake. Finally, in the glamour 
 of Jakey's talk of untold wealth to be acquired, Lang- 
 don, swayed by the cupidity of his nature rather thwi 
 
 cm] 
 
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 
 
 hit better judgment, promiMd hali-heftrtedlv to oo- 
 opente with Fauit. 
 
 But no looner had the latter gone than the lodestar 
 of Langdon'i lelf-intereit flickered clearly in riew, and 
 he promiied Mr. Jakey, mentally, a long trip to a rery 
 hot place, indeed, rather than a lurreptitioui partner- 
 ship over Diablo. 
 
 It was some little time after this, while Fantt wu 
 feeling somewhat irritated at the absence of informa- 
 tion from Langdon, that he had an interview with 
 Crane. 
 
 "I want you to back The Dutchman to win fifty 
 thousand for me over the Brooklyn Derby," the latter 
 said. 
 
 **But there's no winner book on it," objected Faust. 
 
 **That's just where your cleverness will come in," 
 suavely answered Crane. 'There's no hurry, and there 
 are always people looking for foolish money. There's 
 one such in Chicago, O'Leary; and I fancy they could 
 even be found in New York. But you ought to get 
 fifty to one, about it, if you put it on easy." 
 
 **I see you have Diablo entered for the Brooklyn," 
 Faust put out as a feeler. *T)on*t you want a com- 
 mission worked or. him?" 
 
 **1 didn't enter him; that was somebody else's fool- 
 ishness, and I don't want to back him." 
 
 ''He's a hundred to one." 
 
 "A thousand would be short odds, I should say," 
 answered Crane. "But wait a bit. I bought him just 
 to— well, I took him from some people who were tired 
 of his cannibal ways, and promised tu have a small bet 
 on him the first time he ran, for— for the man." The 
 equivocation was really a touch of delicacy. "You 
 
 [178] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS v 
 
 might take the odds to fifty for me; there's not ont 
 chance in a miUion of his starting, but I might foiset 
 aU about this little matter of the bet, even if I wert 
 foolish enough to pay post-money on him." 
 
 "Hadn't I better ^bble on more from time to time 
 if he has a chance?'' 
 
 "Not of my money, thanks I" The **thanks" clipped 
 like a steel trap, and thd biisiness wbb completed. 
 
 Faust went away more than ever suspicious of Crane 
 and Diablo. That fifty doUars being put on for any- 
 body else was bunkum. What was Crane up to anyway ? 
 If he reaUy meant to back the horse he would not have 
 started with such a trifle. Perhaps Diablo had been 
 stuck in the Brooklyn simply to see how the handi- 
 capper would rate him. 
 
 Faust was convinced that Crane had some big coup 
 m view; he would wait a little, and at the first move 
 have a strong play himself. 
 
 X 
 
 [174] 
 
XIX 
 
 Lakodok was a consummate trainer, a student of 
 horse character. He knew that while biniodide of mer- 
 cury would bUster and put right a bowed tendon, or 
 the firing iron take the life out of a splint, that a much 
 finer knowledge than this was requisite to get full- 
 hearted work out of a thoroughbred. Brain must be 
 pitted against brain; so he studied his horses; and 
 when Diablo came into his hands, possessed of a mind 
 disease, he worked over him with considerable intelli- 
 gent patience. 
 
 This study of horse character was the very thing 
 that had caused him to go wrong over Lauzanne. He 
 had not gone quite far enough; had not waited for 
 time to demonstrate clearly the horse's temperament, 
 but had recourse to a cocaine stimulant. But with him 
 Lauzanne's case had been exceptional. 
 
 At first there was little encouragement over Diablo, 
 but almost by accident Langdon discovered that the 
 Black's bad temper was always fanned into a blaze by 
 the sight of the boy Shandy. 
 
 Then came a glint of hope. Diablo took a fancy to 
 Westley, the jockey, who was experimentaUy put on 
 hw back in the working gallop. After that Shandy was 
 kept out of the way; Westley took Diablo under his 
 care, and the big horse began to show a surprising im- 
 provement. 
 
 Crane had been quite honest in his statement that 
 he thought Diablo a bad horse. His having been en- 
 tered by Porter in the "Brooklyn'* suggested the possi- 
 
 [175] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 bility that his former owner mmt have seen some merit 
 in the horse. At any rate, he advised Langdon to give 
 Diablo a patient trial. He really had very little idea 
 that the horse would start in the Handicap— it seemed 
 improbable. Langdon was also convinced that Porter 
 had discovered something great in Diablo; that Crane 
 knew this, and had paid a stiff price for the horse, and 
 to his own ends was keeping it dark. 
 
 As the winter turned into April he intimated to 
 Crane that it was time for them to decide the placing 
 of the horses, and suggested that they try them out 
 Crane had already decided to race The Dutchman this 
 year in his own name and not in Langdon's. If 
 The Dutchman came up to expectation they could give 
 him a slow preparation up to Derby time; they could 
 find out whether Diablo was worth keeping for— well, 
 for Morris Park or Oravesend, or they could hurry him 
 on a little, and start him at Aqueduct. 
 
 Crane agreed with this reasoning, and it was decided 
 to give the two horses a home trial. 
 
 On the day that Langdon had said he would try 
 Diablo and The Dutchman, Crane went down to 
 Oravesend. When he got to the Trainer's house he 
 found the latter waiting for him. 
 
 "I sent the horses over with the boys," Langdon said; 
 "if youll just wait a minute, I'll have a buggy hitched 
 up and well drive over." 
 
 A stable-boy brought the trap to the door in a few 
 minutes, and Langdon, telling Crane to get in,, disap- 
 peared into the house, returning presently \^th two 
 saddles, which he placed in the buggy. 
 
 "A couple of favorite saddles of mine," he explained, 
 "they're like old fiddles that great players carry about 
 
 [176] 
 
CHAPTER NINETEEN 
 
 under their arms an* sleep with, an' never let no one 
 but themselves touch/* 
 
 "Aie you that particular with these?" asked Crane 
 by way of conversation, not feeling at all interested in 
 what he considered a fad of the Trainer's. 
 
 'TTes; I mostly handle *em myself. They cost a bit. 
 I had 'em made to order. The boys is that careless, 
 they'd smash anything." 
 
 As they jogged along, Langdon kept up a monologue 
 dissertation on the merits of the two horses. **If s a 
 good day for a gallop," and he flicked the driving beast's 
 quarter with the whip; "there's not much wind, an' the 
 air's a bit sharp. They'll be on their mettle, the both 
 of em, more 'specially Diablo. I had his plates 
 changed. Tears to me he hadn't been shod in three 
 moons; I'll bet the smith took an inch off his toes." 
 Then he broke off to chuckle awhile. 
 
 Crane was not skilled in the anatomy of a horse, be- 
 yond as it worked out in winning races and money. 
 That a horse had toes had never quite come into his 
 knowledge, and Langdon's gurgle of mirth he put down 
 to a suspicion that the Trainer was taking a rise out 
 of him in what he had said. 
 
 "I was thinking of Paddy Caramagh when he shod 
 Diablo the other day. I think you've heard Pat swear. 
 He holds the belt for cussin' in this part of the country 
 WeU, he let it aU out of him before he'd finished with 
 tte Black. Ha, ha, ha, ha I I can hear him stiU, with 
 the sweat running off his face like oats spilling from a 
 feed bag. I says to Paddy, *Rub his nose a bit,' for I 
 could see it was more nervousness with the horse than 
 sheer deviltoy. 'With what?' says Paddy, 'the hammer? 
 Be gorl You're right, though,' says he, and with that 
 
 [177] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 *i"^ *£.??* « ^^tw on Diabio'8 noee. Holy 
 mother I Diablo reached for him, and lifted the shirt 
 clean off his back. Say, there was a scared Irishman, 
 If you ever saw one in your life. He threw down the 
 p^a e, cuBsm M only Paddy can. and swore the brute 
 
 S ^r *"? ^ ""^ ^ ^^^' ^^^> «^' kids him 
 a bit, only firm-hke, and we shod him right enough." 
 He 18 bad tempered, then r asked Crane. 
 No; just WMits a fair deal; that's all. You make 
 him believe you^re on the square, an' hell do what's 
 nght But he hasn't^ got no use for any of the guys 
 that t,?t a cranky play in on him; he won't stand it 
 m going to put Westley up on him to-day." 
 **What about The Dutchman?" 
 "CoUey^ do. Any kid can ride him, if they sit still. 
 He 8 just the easiest-tempered horse ever looked through 
 a bridle; he knows what's doin' all the time. But CoSy 
 aint no good on Diablo, an' if he can smell Shandy, 
 that settles it-ifs all over. I'll put Westley up; it 
 takes a man to ride that horse." / i** " 
 
 '*What about this gallop?" asked Crane; "there'U 
 be^spies about trying to find out things, won't there r 
 Bet yer life, there'll be somebody, sir. It's just like 
 when I was out in Colorado; you couldn't see a vulture 
 if you traveled forty days, perhaps, but plant a dead 
 thing anywhCTe and in an hour the sky simply rained 
 rai down. These touts is most like vultures of any- 
 thing I Imow; you've just got to work your stunt to 
 give 'em the go-by, that's aU." 
 
 ff«?ri/^n ^""^ ^'^ *P**^'**^ ^"^^'^^t '"^ the matters 
 that held full sway over the Trainer's mind; looking 
 
 after these incidents was Langdon's part of the contrafflL 
 
 [178] 
 
CHAPTER NINETEEN 
 
 That was why they were so atrong together. Langdon 
 cottW do It. Just how the trial was to benefit §ieni 
 alone, with the inevitable tout at hand. Crane knew 
 not, neither did he inyestigate; that was up to the 
 Trainer. '^ 
 
 .J^ ^7f V"^ ^^ paddock. Westley, Colley, and 
 the two stable lads were there. 
 
 "ShaU we bring out the horses?'* asked Westley: as 
 Langdon sat swinging a leg loosely over the end of the 
 buggy seat. 
 "Any of the talent about. Bill?" 
 '^^ likely, though I haven't seen none.'* 
 
 «u ^^'^ *?"? *^^ °**^- ^^^ saddle up careless 
 
 like, anu no preliminary, miri you. The sharks won't 
 look for a brush till youVe gone around once. Take 
 your mounts down the stretch to the quarter post, an' 
 ^en come away the first break; if there's anyone 
 toutm' you off, they'll think it just a pipe opener, an' 
 wont catch the fame. Run out the mile-an'-a-quarter 
 S!!^®t;,!T ""^ ".' ^""^ ^**°'* «° ^ *^e bat. Diablo an' 
 ine best they've got. ' 
 
 "AU right, sir," answered Westley. "It I'm a judge, 
 when the Black's through pullin', he's done Li? 
 aiuse hes a keen one, so there won't be no caU to put 
 
 luJ?J\^ " ^'^y **' *b« '«il Wrds is lookin' 
 tijeyOl think we're goin' under a strong wrap, even 
 when we're all out." 
 
 Langdon nodded his head. He was a man not given 
 to exuberant appreciation. The boys averred that when 
 Dick Langdon didn't curse at them they had done 
 pretty well, indeed. 
 
 'nVhaf s your weight P' he asked of Westley, abruptly 
 
 [179] ^ '' 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 'Tve JTMt tipped the scales at a hundred-and-thiee 
 in my sweater." 
 
 "One hundred and three/' mused the Trainer, Hik- 
 ing a mental calculation. **What*s Coney's weights 
 
 "He's as near a hundred as you can make it." 
 
 "Did you bring over a saddle P* 
 
 'Tes; two of *em; one apiece for the horses." 
 
 "Tell Colley to take one, and some leads, and weigh 
 out a hundred and twelve. ThatOl be three pounds 
 above the scale for May, weight for age, for the three- 
 year-old. The Dutchman. I guess he won't need more'n 
 seven pounds dead weight, for it's a five-pound saddle, 
 I think. Let me see, you said a hundred and three, 
 you were." 
 
 'TTes, sir; in the sweater; I can take that off—" 
 "No; never mind. Take this saddle," and he lifted 
 one from the buggy; "it'll just suit Diablo; he's got a 
 herring-bone of a wither, an' this is high in the tree, an* 
 won't cut him. Here's the cloth an' some leads; weigh 
 out a hundred and twelve,too. Weight for age— Diablo's 
 a four-year-old; you ought to carry a hundred and 
 twenty-six, but he's not Tie Dutchman's class, an' the 
 youngster'd lose him before they'd gone half the jour- 
 ney. We'll run 'em at level weights, an' he'll get 
 closer to The Dutchman, an' the sharks won't have such 
 a fairy tale to tell about our horse." 
 
 "A hundred and twelve, you said, sir?" queried West- 
 ley, as he put the saddle that Langdon handed him over 
 his left arm, slipped the thin sheets of lead in his pocket, 
 and stood dangling the linen weight cloth in his right 
 hand. 
 
 "Yes ; level weights— a hundred an' twelve pounds.** 
 "Westley," tha Trainer called as the Uttle man 
 
 [180] 
 
CHAPTER NINETEEN 
 
 •tarted off, ''just bring the saddle back to me here when 
 youVe weighed. I'll put it on Diablo myself; he's a 
 touchy cuss, and I don't want him ruffled by careless 
 lumdlinV ^ 
 
 *Trou take considerable trouble over it," remarked 
 Crane. "One would think it was a big handicap you 
 meant to capture this morning." 
 
 Langdon started visibly. Was Crane thinking of the 
 Brooklyn? Did this quiet, clever man sitting at his 
 elbow already know as much as he hoped to discover in 
 his present gallop? 
 
 He answered: "Handicaps is usually won pretty 
 much like this; they're generally settled before the 
 horse goes to the post for the trip itself. When he goes 
 through the paddock gate the day of the big race he's 
 out of his trainer's hands ; the man's got no more to do 
 with the race himself than a kid sittin' up in the grand 
 stand. Here's where I come in, if we mean to land the 
 Brooklyn," and he looked searchingly at Crane, a mis- 
 leading grin on his lips. But the latter simply joined 
 in the laugh, doubtingly, perhaps. 
 
 "A hundred and twelve, neat," declared Westley, 
 as he returned, throwing some loose leads into the buggy. 
 "Coney's gone to saddle The Dutchman." 
 
 "All right," answered Langdon, getting down from 
 the seat and taking the saddle. "Go and tell the boy 
 to bring Diablo out of the stall. I'll saddle him in the 
 open. He generally kicks the boards when I cinch him 
 up, an' it puts him in a bad humor." 
 
 Langdon started off with the jockey, but turned back, 
 saying, "Oh, Mr. Crane, I wanted to ask you—" 
 ^ By this he had reached the buggy, while Westley con- 
 tinued on his way to the stalls. 
 
 [181] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 "If I a fine day, lir/' continued Langdon, flniAi> g 
 his sentence, and exchanging the sadcUe held in his 
 hand for the one tiiat was in the buggy. 
 
 ''Going to pat the other on?'' asked Crane. 
 
 ''Yes; I fancy Diablo will like this better. Touchy 
 brutes, these race horses; got to humor 'em. Come on 
 over to the stalls— the horse'U stand." 
 
 Diablo was being U>d around in a small circle by his 
 boy. He was a nujgnificeni creature, sixteen and a half 
 hands high, and built on the same grand scale; perhapa 
 a bit leggy for the huge barrefthat topped the limbs; 
 that was what caused him to go wrong in his younger 
 days. His black skin glistened in the noonday sun. 
 
 "That's what I call the mirror of health,'' said Lang- 
 don, in an unwonted burst of poetic eloquence, as he 
 passed his hand across the horse's ribs. Then feeling 
 that somehow he had laid himself open to a suspicion 
 of gentleness, added, "He's a hell of a fine looker; if he 
 could gallop up to his looks he'd make some of the cracks 
 take a back seat." 
 
 Even ~>iablo had resented either the mellifluous com- 
 parison or the rub of Langdon's hand, for he lashed 
 out furiously, with a great far-reaching 1^ that nearly 
 caught Crane unawares. 
 
 "Your polite language seems to be as irritating to 
 him as the blacksmith's oaths," ejaculated Crane, as he 
 came back from the hasty retreat he had beaten. 
 
 "It's only play. Good horses is of two kinds idien 
 you're saddlin' 'em. The Dutchman therell hang his 
 head down, and champ at the bit, even if you bury the 
 girf an inch deep in Ids belly; he's honest, and blows 
 ifs all needed. That's one kind; and they're generally 
 the same at the post, always there or thereabouts, wait- 
 
 [18«] 
 
CHAPTER NINETEEN 
 
 in' for the word 'go/ An' they race pretty mnch the 
 ume all the time. If yon time 'em a mile in 1 :40 at 
 home, they'll do it when the colors is up, an' the silk 
 a^flappin' all about 'em in the race. 
 
 '"Whoa! Hold still, yon bratel Steady, steady I 
 Whoa t" This to Diablo, for while talking he had ad- 
 justed the weight cloth with the gentleness of a cavalier 
 putting a silk wrap abont his lady love's neck, and had 
 pnt a fold of soft woolen cloth over the high-boned 
 wither. 
 
 "Stand out in front of him and hold his head down 
 a bit;" this to the boy. Then as he slipped the saddle 
 into place and reached underneath for the girths, he 
 continued his address to Crane on the peculiarity of 
 racers. 
 
 '^ow this is a horse of another color, this one; he 
 ain't takin' things easy at no stage of the game. He 
 objects to everything, an' some day that'll land him a 
 winner, see? Hell get it into his head that the other 
 horses want to beat him out, an' he'll show 'em a clean 
 pair of heels; come home on the bit, pullin' double. 
 
 **Whoa, boy! Steady, steady, old man!" Then he 
 ceased talking, for he had taken the girth strap between 
 his teeth, and was cinching up the big Black with the 
 firm pull of a grizzly. Diablo squirmed under the 
 torture of the tightening web on his sensitive skin, and 
 crouched as though he would fall on the Trainer. 
 
 'TTes, sir,*" continued Langdon, as he ran the stirrups 
 up under the saddle flap out of the way, and motioned 
 to the boy to lead Diablo about. 'TTes, sir; this fellow's 
 different. He's too damn sensitive. At the post he's like 
 as not to act like a locoed broncho, an' get one blamed 
 for having 'juiced' him, but he don't need no dope; 
 
 [188] 
 
 s& 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 whit he needf ii itetdying. If he gets twiv in fmnt 
 tt«n loiy leg. of hi. iSTUe .ome^JS?' i^TSL' 
 kind that wm. when the book, are Ityin' a hundred to 
 one againjt him. But the wor.t of it^i. with W^i' 
 
 the rtable ought to be ruled off; an' aU the time you're 
 Hrfl^f r" ^??i ^'^ to get him to gire hi. t^ruei! 
 f^ll *^'"i^"'y ^"* ^° Th« Dutchman; mount 
 
 stage play with it; but don't hit the Black. We'U iust 
 ^gtt^ do »^1'> thi. trip," he addedraddiSl 
 
 WfS^ i^f ?*^". "P^^U-^ted foot in hi. hand, he 
 through a gate to the courM. 
 
 [1S4] 
 
XX 
 
 Thi two boyi ctntered their moimtt down io the 
 quarter post careleuly, ai though they were going 
 uotincl to the far side. 
 
 **Look at 'em!" cried the Trainer; "iui't he a little 
 gentleman?*' 
 
 To the uninitiated this might hare been taken af a 
 tribute to one of the boys, Westley, perhaps; but the 
 Trainer was not even thinking of them. They were of 
 no moment. It was the wine-red bay, The Dutchman, 
 cantering with gentle, laay grace, that had drawn forth 
 this encomium. His head, somewhat high carried, was 
 held straight and true in front, and his big eyes 
 ■earched the course with gentle inquisitiveness, for 
 others of his kind, perhaps. 
 
 "He's a lovely horse," commented Crane, knowing 
 quite well to what Langdon referred. 
 
 "He's all that, but just look at the other devil." 
 
 Diablo was throwing his nose fretfully up and down, 
 up and down; grabbing at the bit; pirouetting from 
 one side the course to the other; nearly pulling Westley 
 over his neck one minute, as with lowered head he 
 sought to break away, and the next dashing forward 
 for a few yards with it stuck foolishly high, like a bad- 
 mouthed Indian cayuse. 
 
 "But Westleyni manage him," Langdon confided to 
 Crane, after a period of silent observation; *Tie11 get 
 his belly full of runnin' when he's gone a mile and a 
 
 [185] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 quarter with The Dutchman. OadI that was neat; 
 here they come;" for the two boys had whirled with 
 ludden ikill at the quarter poet, and broke away, with 
 Diablo ilightly in the lead. "Ify God I he can more," 
 muttered Langdon, abetraetedly, and quite to himielf. 
 The man at hie lide had floated into oblivion. He mw 
 only a great striding black hone coming wide-mouthed 
 up the itretch. At the Black^i heela, with dogged lopf, 
 hung the Bay. 
 
 'Take him back, take him back, Westleyl" yelled 
 Langdon, leaning far out over the rail, as the horaes 
 raced by, Diablo well in front. 
 
 TIm Trainer'i admonition leemed like a cry to a 
 cyclone, as void of usefulness. What power could the 
 tiny dot lying close hugged far up on the straining 
 black neck hare over the gallopir«c flend? 
 
 Tes, that's the way," Langdon said, nodding his 
 head to Crane, ai jerking a thumb out toward the first 
 turn in the course, where the two horses were hug- 
 ging close to the rail; "that's the way he's worked 
 here." 
 
 "Which ono?" asked his companion. 
 
 "The Black, an' if he ever does that in a race— God 
 help the others — theyll never catch him; they'll never 
 catch him; they'll never catch him," he kept repeating, 
 dwelling lovingly on the thought, as he saw the con- 
 firmation of it being enacted before his eyes ; for across 
 the new green of the grass-sprouted course he could see 
 two open lengths of daylight between Diablo and The 
 Dutclunan. 
 
 "Fifty-one and a half for the half-mile," he imparted 
 to Crane, looking at his watch. "Now The Dutchman 
 is moving up; Colley doesn't mean to get left if he 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY 
 
 MB iMlp it I'm ftfnid DUUoOl ihut up wbta he» 
 piadwd; hit kind art apt to do that. Th« Dntchman 
 r ff^' "' *' ^ •^•^ geta to the Blaeiea throat-latch 
 
 5S? f**?^.**-^ ^""^ " **^ "^^ 'i^* J ** t«*« •ome 
 ndin , dr." He was becoming enthniiaitio, exuberant. 
 The ailent man at hie lide noticed the chUdiah repett- 
 tion with inward amuwment. He had thought that 
 Langdon would hare been orerjoyed to lee the bay 
 horee smother hie opponent. Waa not the Trainer to 
 ^▼e ten thouaand doUara if The Dutchman won the 
 Handicap? But here he waa pinning hia satiaf action 
 to the good ihowing of Diablo. He didn't know of the 
 ownpact between Langdon and the Bookmtiker Pauit, 
 but he itrongly luapected fh)m the Trainer's demeanor 
 that the gallop he was witnessing foretold some bi£ 
 coup the latter scented. 
 
 •*He hasn't got him yet, he hi ot him yetl" 
 
 cried Langdon, joyfuUy, as the hoi iwung arouuf' 
 the bottom turn, closer locked, but with DLMo fctUl a 
 abort length in the lead. 
 
 Crjae saw no great cause for exhilaration. The 
 Dntchman waa certainly giving the Black twenty 
 pwin^', the best of it in the weights, for one wu a thre^ 
 yeM^ld while the other was four, and they each car- 
 ried a hundred and twelve. 
 
 JTheniile in 1:42," chirped Langdon. 'Thafs 
 movm, li you hke, oonsidorin' the track, the condi- 
 tion of the horses, an' that they're runnin' under a 
 double wrap Now we^l see a ding-dong finish, if the 
 BUujk doesn't show a streak of yellow. Dutchy's got 
 him, he added, as through his glasses he saw them 
 awing into the straight, neck and neck. 
 "Clever Mr. Westley I" for Diablo's rider, having the 
 
 [187] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 rail and the lead, had Ix>red out slightly on the turn, 
 so as not to cramp the uncertain horse he rode, and 
 carried The Dutchman wide. 
 
 Up the straight they came, the boys helping their 
 mounts with leg and arm; the Black holding Us own 
 with a dogged persistence that quite upset Langdon's 
 prognostication of cowardice. 
 
 To the watchers it was as exciting as a stake race. 
 The stamina that Langdon had said would stand The 
 Dutchman in good stead over the mile and a half Han- 
 dicap course now showed itself. First he was level with 
 the Black, then gradually, stride by stride, he drew 
 away from Diablo, and fipished a short length in front. 
 
 "A great trial," cried the Trainer, gleefully, holding 
 out his watch for Crane's inspection. "See that!** 
 pointing to the hand he had stopped as the Bay's brown 
 nozzle flashed by the post; "two-nine on this course! 
 Anything that beats that pair, fit and well, a mile and 
 a qua^r on a fast track'll have to make it in two-five, 
 an' that's the record." 
 
 "It looks good business for the Derby, Langdon." 
 
 "Yes, it does. That's the first showing I've had 
 from the colt as a three-year-old; but I knew he had 
 it in him. Hanover was a great horse — ^to my mind 
 we never had his equal in America — ^but this young- 
 ster'll be as good as his daddy ever was. I don't think 
 you ought to start him, sir, till the Derby, if you're 
 set on winnin* it." 
 
 He had moved up to the gate as he talked, and now 
 opened it, waiting for the boys to come back. They 
 had eased down the horses gradually after the fierce 
 gallop, turned them about and were trotting toward 
 the paddock, where stood the two men. Langdon took 
 
 [188] 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY 
 
 Diablo by the bridle rein and led him in toward the 
 ■tails. 
 
 ''How did he shape under you, Westley?" he asked, 
 as the boy slipped from the saddle. 
 
 ''I wouldn't ask to ride a better horse. I thought I 
 had the colt beaten, sure; but my mount seemed to tire 
 a little at the finish. He didnH toss it up, not a bit of 
 it ; ran as game as a pebble ; he just tired at the finish. 
 I think a mile is his journey. He held The Dutchman 
 safe at a mile.'' 
 
 "I guess you're right, Westley; a mile's his limit. 
 At level weights with the three-year-old, which means 
 that he had twenty pounds the best of it, he should 
 have held his own the whole route to be a stayer, for 
 the colt isn't more'n half ready yet." 
 
 ''I didn't hustle him none too much, sir; I might a- 
 sqtteezed a bit more out of him. Did we make fair 
 time?" 
 
 ''Quite a feeler. Mister Jockey," thought Langdon 
 to himself; "it's news you want, eh?" Then he answered 
 aloud, with a diplomacy bom of many years of turf 
 tuition: "Fairish sort of time; it might have been 
 better, perhaps — a shade under two-twelve. I thought 
 they might have bettered that a couple of seconds. But 
 they'll come on — they'll come on, both of them. If 
 anybody asks you, Westley, The Dutchman was beaten 
 off, see? I don't like to discourage the clever owners 
 that has good 'uns in the Derby." Then he added as 
 a sort of after thought, and with wondrous carelessness : 
 "It doesn't matter about the Black, you know; he's 
 only a sellin' plater, so it doesn't matter. But all the 
 same, Westley, when we find a soft spot for him, an 
 over-night sellin' purse or somethin', you'll have the 
 
 [189] 
 
THOROUOHBREDS 
 
 l«g np, with a bet down for you at a long priot, 
 ■eeP' 
 
 **l understand, sir." 
 
 By the time Langdon had slipped the saddle from 
 Diablo's back the boy had thrown a hooded blanket 
 over him, and he was led away. 
 
 "Send them home, Westley. Now, Mr. Crane, well 
 drive back to the house an' have a bit of lunch.'' 
 
 As they drove along Crane brought ur the subje^ '^f 
 the trial. 
 
 **The colt must be extra good, Langdon, or the Black 
 is — ^well, as ho was represented to be, not much ac- 
 count." 
 
 ''I guess Diablo's about good enough to win a big 
 handicap, if he happened to be in one at a light weight." 
 
 "He didn't win to-day." . 
 
 "He came pretty near it." 
 
 "But where would he have been carrying his proper 
 weight?" 
 
 "About where he was, I guess." 
 
 "You said as a four-year-old he should have had up 
 a hundred and twenty-six, and he carried a himdred 
 and twelve; and, besides, had the best boy by seven 
 pounds on his back." 
 
 "Just pass me that saddle, Mr. Crane," said Lang- 
 don, by way of answer. "Nbj not that—the one I 
 took off Diablo." 
 
 Crane reached down his hand, but the saddle didn't 
 come quite as freely as it should have. "Whaf s it 
 caught in r he asked, fretfully. 
 
 "In itself, I reckon— lift it." 
 
 "Gad! iff heavy. Did Diablo carry that? Whafi 
 initr 
 
 [190] 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY 
 
 ''Lead — btiilt into it; it's my old fiddle, you know. 
 Ton're the first man that's had his hand on tiiat saddle 
 for some time, I can tell you/' 
 
 ''Then Diablo did carry his full weight/' commented 
 Crane, a light breaking in upon him. 
 
 ''Just about, and carried it like a stake horse, too.'* 
 
 "And you — ^" 
 
 "Yes; I changed the saddles after Westley weighed. 
 He's a goo^ boy, and don't shoot off his mouth much, 
 but all the same things will out while ridin' boys have 
 tile power of speech." 
 
 "It looks as though Diablo had something in him," 
 said Crane, meditatively. 
 
 "He's got the Brooklyn in him. Fancy The Dutch- 
 man in at seventy pounds; that's what it comes to. 
 Diablo's got ninety to carry, an' he gave the other 
 twenty pounds to-day. You've got the greatest thing 
 on earth right in your hands now — '* 
 
 Langdon hesitated for a minute, and then added: 
 "But I guess you knew this all before, or you wouldr/* 
 have sent him here." 
 
 "I bought him for a bad horse," answered Crane, 
 quietly; **but if he turns out well, thafs so much to the 
 good. But it's a bit of luck Porter's not having de- 
 clared him out to save nearly a himdred. He se^ns to 
 have raced pretty loose." 
 
 "I wonder if he thinks I'm taking in that fairy tale ?" 
 thought Langdon. Aloud, he said: "But youll back 
 him now, sir, won't you? He must be a long price in 
 the winter books." 
 
 "Yes; 111 arrange that," answered the other, "and 
 111 take care of you, too. I suppose Westley will take 
 the mount?" 
 
 [W] 
 
THOROUOHBREDS 
 
 ut 
 
 "Well, yon can just give him to understand thtt 
 hell be looked after if the hone wina." 
 'Ifs the Brooklyn, sir, is it r 
 "Seems like it." 
 
 XI. ''^ .^«°'* »7 anything about the race to Weatley, 
 though." " 
 
 "I'll leave all that to you. ITl attend to getting the 
 money on; you do the rest." 
 
 When Crane had gone, Langdon paid further mental 
 tnbute to his master's astuteness. "Now I see it all," he 
 muttered; "the old man just thought to keep me quiet; 
 throw me off the scent till he duplicated the other trial, 
 whenever they puUed iii off. Now he's got a sure line 
 on the Black, an' he'll make such a killin' that the 
 booksTl remember him for many a day. But why does 
 he keep throwin' that fairy tale into me about buyin* 
 a bad horse to oblige somebody? A man would be a 
 sucker to believe that of Crane; he's not the sort. But 
 one sure thing, he said he'd look after me, an' he wilL 
 He'd break a man quick enough, but when he gives his 
 word it stands. Mr. Jakey Faust can look after him- 
 self : I'm not goin' to take chances of losin' a big stable 
 of bread-winners by doublin' on the Boss." 
 
 Langdon's mental analysis of Crane's motives waa 
 the outcome of considerable experience. The Banker's 
 past life was not compatible with generous dealing. 
 HiR act of buying Diablo had been prompted by new- 
 bom feelings of regard for the Porters, chiefly Allis; 
 but no man, much less Langdon, would have given him 
 credit for other than the most selfish motives. 
 
 True to his resolve, Langdon utterly refused to share 
 his confidences with Jakey Faust. 
 
 [IW] 
 
CHAFTBR TWENTY 
 
 *^9^W€ tried the honet" he said, ''and the Datch- 
 man ▼on, bnt Crane knows more about the whole bnsi- 
 ness than I do. Yon go to him, Jake, or wait till he 
 sends for yon, an' yonll find out all about it. My 
 game's to run straight with one man, anyway, an' Fm 
 goin' to do it." 
 
 That was all Faust could learn. When an occasion 
 offered he slipped a ten-dollar note into Shandy's hand, 
 for he knew the lad was full open to a bribe, but 
 Shandy knew no more than did the Bookmaker. The 
 Dutchman had won the trial from the Black quite 
 easily, was the extent of his knowledge. As to Diablo 
 himself. Shandy gave him a very bad character indeed. 
 
 [IW] 
 

 FAuai was in a quandary. First Crane had eonlldad 
 di^^that he meant to have this good thing S to 
 
 Then Langdon had promised to cooperate, now he 
 too,^d closea up like a clam; he was^l mite'L !S 
 
 P^ff^Su"* ??^' *^®' ^'•^ •" ^^ time/' thought 
 Faust; «but there's some game on, sure « ^ 
 
 1. f f *«™»V»ed to back DUblo for himself at the 
 
 long odds, and chance it. ^^ ^ 
 
 Two days later Crane received a very ilUterate 
 
 hmJ ^«? 1;?^. ?^ *^ ^^«1 y«^ tJ^ the blak 
 S^. li^^L^i^^- Yous got de duble cros Sil 
 time, per bokie hes axin me wot de blak is iroodX 
 der bokie is playin fer to trow yous downe^ " «^ '^ 
 No moar at presen." 
 
 Cr^>.«T**^V'°?^ ambiguous communication that 
 n^l^ '^^^ ^^f ^' ^~'- The'e was no sta^ 
 
 hoiJ?f r^rv'?^^ '"^"^ «^°^« 0°^^ who, io doubt 
 ho^ to get into his good graces by putting ium on S 
 
 mat« 1>T°'^' ^"x?." ^^^ J'^'* °^*^« ^P his mind to 
 make his plunge on Diablo while the odds were W 
 
 [194] ^ 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE 
 
 •nough to make it poenble with the outlay of Terr little 
 capital He smoked a heavy Manuel Oarda over this 
 new wntingency. It did not matter about the laddlea 
 iMgdon had confided in him fully. But how had the 
 wi«er of the ill-spelled missive known of that matter? 
 
 Yes, he had better make his bet before these whisper- 
 ings came to other ears. 
 
 But the bookmaker mentioned ? That must be Faust 
 Wgr was he prowling about among stable lads? 
 
 He srat for Faust When the latter had come. Crane 
 asked Diablo's price for the Brooklyn. 
 
 "If 8 ^irty to one now," repUed the Bookmaker : 
 "somebody's backin' him." --*«*w, 
 
 Fausf s smaU Uby eyes were fixed furtively on 
 Crane's pale, saUow face, as he imparted this informa- 
 tion; but he might as well have studied the ingrain 
 paper on the wall; its unflgured surface was notmore 
 placid, more devoid of indication, than the smooth 
 countenance he was searching. 
 
 Crane rraiained tantalizingly sUent for a full minute ; 
 evidently his thoughts had drifted away to some other 
 subject. 
 
 "Yes,^ Mid Faust, speaking again to break the try- 
 ing quiet, "some one's nibblin' at Diablo in the boofcL 
 I wonder if ifs Porter; did he think him a good 
 horsd r * 
 
 ;*It can't be Porter, nor any one else who knows 
 liable. Ifs some foohsh outsider, tempted by the Ion* 
 odds. I suppose, however, it doesn't matter; in fact, 
 ifs aU the better. You took that five thousand to fiftv 
 for me, didn't you?" ^ 
 
 'TTes." 
 
 "WeU, just lay it off. You can do so now at a pi»it " 
 
 [IW] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 **T(ra don't want to back Diablo, then? Shall I lay 
 againat him farther P' 
 
 'If you like — ^in yonr own book. I don't want to 
 have anything to do with him, one way or the other. I 
 always thought he wai a bad hone, and — and — ^well, 
 never mind, just lay that bet o£F. I shall probably 
 want to back The Dutchman again shortly.'' 
 
 When Faust had gone. Crane opened the little 
 drawer which held his betting book, took it out, and 
 drew a pencil through the entry he had made opposite 
 Allis's name. 
 
 "That's off for a few days, thanks to ?Ir. Faust," he 
 thought. Then he ran his eye back over several other 
 entries. "Ah, thafs the man— Hummel; hell do." 
 
 Next he consulted his telephone book; tracing his 
 finger down the **B.'* column he came to "Ike Hummel, 
 commission broker, Madison 71184." 
 
 Over the 'phone he made an appointment for the next 
 day at eleven o'clock with Hummel; and the result of 
 that interview was that Crane backed Diablo to win 
 him a matter of seventy-five thousand dollars at the 
 libeial odds of seventy-five to one; for Jakey F|rast, 
 feeling that he had made a mistake in backing the' 
 Black, had laid off all his own bets and sent the horse 
 back in the market to the longer odds. Crane had 
 completely thrown him off his guard. 
 
 .0 sooner had Faust congratulated himself upon 
 aitving slipped out of his Diablo bets than he heard 
 that a big commission had been most skillfully worked 
 on this outsider for the Brooklyn. In his new <lilf >«iTna 
 he went to Crane, feeling very much at sea. 
 
 'They're backin' your horse again, sir," he said. 
 
 "Are theyP' 
 
 [196] 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE 
 
 *Tf Wi worth backing at aU I luppoee he's worth 
 backing heavily." 
 
 Thii aphoriwn seemed to merit a new ciirar on 
 Crane's part, so he lighted one. 
 
 '*He's travelin* up and down in the market," con- 
 tinues Faust. 'Tie dropped to thirty, then went back 
 to seventy.five; now he's at twenty; I can't make it 
 out" 
 
 *1 shouldn't try," advised Crane, soothingly. "Too 
 much knowledge is even as great a danger as a lesser 
 amount sometimes." 
 
 Faust started guiltily and looked with quick inquiry 
 at the speaker, but, as usual, there was nothing in his 
 pr^ce beyond the words to hang a conjecture on. 
 "I thought for your sake that I'd better find out." 
 Oh, don't worry about me; that is, too much, you 
 know. I go down to Gravesend once in a while myself 
 and no doubt know all that* s doing." ' 
 
 A great fear fell upon Faust. Evidently this was an 
 mtanation to him to keep away from the stables. How 
 did Crane know— who had split on him? Was it 
 Langdon, or Shandy, or CoUey? Some one had evi- 
 dentiy aroused Crane's suspicion, and this man of a 
 great cleverness had put him away while he worked a 
 big commission through some one else. The thought 
 ▼as none the less bitter to Faust that it was aU his own 
 zault; bis super-cleverness. 
 
 ^J^'if^M^^S'* ""^^J^^ *o ^ort a commission for 
 you on Diablo?" . «» asked, desperately. 
 
 '*No; I sha'n't bet on him at present. And say. 
 
 Faust, m future when I want you to do any bettini 
 
 on my horses, on my account, you know, 111 tell you. 
 
 [197] 
 
m 
 
 TH0R0U0HBRED8 
 
 UndtntandP You needn't worry, that ie— othtr 
 people. I'll tell yon myiell" 
 
 ''I didn't mean—" Faust had itarted to try A 
 plauiible explanation, but Crane itopped him. 
 
 "Never mind; the matter is closed out now." 
 
 <<But, sir/' persisted Faust, "if you've got your monqr 
 all on, can I take a bit now? Is it good businesef 
 We've worked together a good deal without misundei^ 
 standing before." 
 
 "Yes, we have," commented Crane. 
 
 "Yes; an' I'd like to be in on this now. I didn't 
 mean to forestall you." 
 
 Crane raised his hand in an attitude of supplication 
 for the other man to, desist, but Faust was not to be 
 stopped. 
 
 "I made a mistake, an' I'm sorry; an' if you will 
 tell me whether Diablo's good business for the Brook- 
 lyn, I'll back him now at the shorter price. There's no 
 use of us bein' bad friends." 
 
 *1 think Diablo's a fairly good bet," said Crane, 
 quietly, entirely ignoring the question of friendship. 
 
 "It won't be poachin' if I have a bet, then?" asked 
 the Cherub, more solicitous than he had appeared at 
 an earlier stage of the game. 
 
 'Toachers don't worry me," remarked Diablo's 
 owner. "I'm my own game keeper, and they usually 
 get the worst of it. But you go ahead and have your 
 bet." 
 
 "Thank you, there won't be no more bad breaks made 
 by me; but I didn't mean to give you none the worst 
 of it. Good day, sir," and he was gone. 
 
 "Faust has had his lesson," thought Crane, as he 
 took from a drawer the stable-boy's ill-favored nota. 
 
 [IW] 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE 
 
 •I wwidw who lent nw thii lortwl? It ggrv im • 
 
 G Inter, though. I luppoM the writer will turn m for 
 I wwtrd; but the devil of it in he'll sell informaUon 
 of this lort to anyone wholl buy. Mutt weed him out 
 when I ye diaooTered the imp. At any rate Ftnat will 
 1^ itraight, now he's Heen scorched, ni just re-enter 
 ttit bet to the Little Woman while I think of it 
 Three thousand seren hundred and fifty to fifty 
 Wablo for the Brooklyn, laid to Miss AlUs Porter."' 
 Thai he dated it. "She loses by this transaction, but 
 that won't matter; it wiU be a pretty good win if it 
 cornea off. She may even refuse this, though she 
 Wouldn't, for it's a part of the bargain that I was to 
 have a bet on for her, a smaU bet, of course. Yes, yes ; 
 I remember, a small bet. But this is a smaU bet. 
 TJarf waa nothing said about the size of the winnings 
 She is probably thinking of gloves. Jingo, she has 
 J lov. ly hand, I've noticed it; long slim firgers, even 
 the palm is long; sinewy 111 warrant; nothing pudgy 
 •bout that hand. Hey, Crane, you're silly I" he cried, 
 half audibly, taking himself to task; "doing business 
 to big moneys— a cool seventy-five thousand, if it ma- 
 tenaluea, perhaps even more— and then dipping off 
 Into a mooney dream, vaporing about a girl's slim hand 
 I roppose thafs the love symptom. But at forty I it's 
 hardly my normal condition, I fancy." 
 
 Tie sum hand beckoned him off into a disjointed 
 reron& Was he the better for it ? What would the end 
 je? Before the new emotion he could look back upon 
 hia past struggles with sordid satisfaction. Men in 
 battle were not given to uneasy qualms of compunction, 
 nor questionings as to the method that had led to vic- 
 tory. His life had been one long-drawn-out battle: 
 
 [199] 
 
THQB0V0HBRED8 
 
 ;l 
 
 Wt hwd, tliiqr WW, hiddtn by the glore olwoSS 
 iSrSf 1^*** the polwnioi of lelf ^tii^ying .eliUhMS 
 
 f^^ir?r.*;'j!;s^*' Tohimth.tWthTpJS 
 
 Cnme, the itrong mw of itrong men, to be ■hoii of h£ 
 md^erjnee to mtything but .ucci.. by . ^^ 
 
 ■Med in manntog anvthiag but . hone: *^ 
 
 of hie aptrtment. Undoubtedly he wt. po««»,ed ofa 
 
 It from him; why not conquer himedf le he hid «l*»w 
 dc^ To let it muterTm me«t tl^l'S^I^S 
 things thtt were tlmoet lecond nature. HeZldnot 
 
 i"„? ^ifL" • «^ '^"^ -^o^d be lored, and- 
 and-well, the gray eyee that had their rtrenkh be- 
 
 T^t T^^ ^^P r"*^ "^y bring]^ die. 
 quietude. It would indeed be difficult to dianw Ma 
 nature much; hi. habit, were almoet like lS5i«Sl 
 g^; t% were grown into the woof of hi. eiirt««. 
 STJI^ ""^^ her it murt be almct entirely becauai 
 of a wperior diplomacy. Everything told him that Se 
 
 ttltirrhoSMlTl?'^ It -im^ahnona^S 
 that it .hould be; there wa. not more disparity S^i, 
 
 year. th«Djn their two selves. "All vei^Se agate - 
 he muttered, wmewhat savagely; n want her, ^nit 
 
 [fOO] 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE 
 
 hw. not bwtuie of Miything bat loT*. What ihe ii. or 
 wUt IMD ooiuitt for nothing; lore ii .U oompeUing; 
 my fi«t m«tor, I Mint* th«»,« thii in mtcX^SS. 
 omty. 
 
 Ito hit itnoi^ he nlied upon hii pow«r to bring 
 fcHrtfa in .niwering lore, tt leut r«gtrd, ihoold he wiS 
 AUii. Yei, It would turely come. He had not ewn • 
 young mil to oombet. Yee, he would win, fint Allii, 
 and tfterward her lote. ^^' 
 
 u *^i?*J^** ""y*" *** •^•col-ted; "but I can't help 
 It «M I can go out and get some frerfi air, and I will" 
 
 C«01] 
 
^ 
 
 xxn 
 
 It was the middle of May. Down in the earth the 
 strong heart of re-awakened nature throbbed with a 
 pulsating force that sent new life forth on its errand 
 of rejuvenation. The apple trees had peeped out with 
 pink eyes, and seeing the summer maiden stalking 
 through the land, had, thrown oflf their timid coyness 
 and shaken loose a drapery of white, all rose-tinted and 
 green-shaded, that turned their broad-acred homes into 
 fairy ball rooms. And for music the bees, and the birds, 
 and shrill fife-playing frogs volunteered out of sheer 
 joyousness of life. 
 
 Tiny shavings of green wax, the gentle spring grass, 
 lay strewn about the ballroom floor, and glistened in 
 the warm light that was of one high-hung chandelier, 
 the sun. 
 
 But all the newborn awakening, all the sweet 
 strength of soul and life that was borne to the waiting 
 land on the wings of soft winds, brought not the hoped- 
 for allotment to John Porter. 
 
 At Bingwood they had waited for the springtime. 
 That would work the cure the doctor's skill had failed 
 of. A man of outdoors, it was the house caging that 
 was killing him, keeping him back. 
 
 These things were said; but Doctor Rathbone only 
 shook his wise old head, with its world of good sense, 
 and answered: "It is none of these things. The trouble 
 is in his mind; he is fretting. A sensitive man, well in 
 
 r«o«] 
 
CHAPTER 1 WENTl TWO 
 
 body, may be brought to ill less by ai Ucipated disaster. 
 That could not have been lue ca3« with John Porter 
 well, but John Porter ill is quite a different matter. It's 
 as I have said before, give him hope, win him races." 
 
 So Allis was really glad at the near approach of the 
 time of her trial. The day was coming fast, soon, when 
 she was to go forth with her Uttle band of horses, as a 
 man almost in everything, to strive for the fulfillment 
 of that which had been put upon her. 
 
 The nearness of the not-to-be-shirked responsibility 
 drove into her veins an unlooked-for exhilaration of 
 strength. She had thought that she would look with 
 dread upon the going away from Bingwood; that a 
 feelmg much akin to stage fright would quite unnerve 
 her at the very last. The riding at home, the horse lore, 
 and the ahnost constant companionship with her father, 
 always among horses and horsemen, though it ap-' 
 peared somewhat dreadful to the village folks had been 
 as nothing to her. Now that she needed strength for 
 the newer, stranger endeavor, it came to her, even as 
 the blossoms came to the swaying apple trees, great and 
 small. 
 
 What wouldn't she do ? she asked herself many times 
 to bnng a strength-giving peace to her father's troubled 
 mind. Even Mrs. Porter, implacably bitter against 
 racing, nrast condone what was so evidently Allis's 
 study, il it tended to their happiness; the mother had 
 softened somewhat in the austerity of her opposition. 
 
 Evening after evening they had discussed the 
 gloomy outlook, with, always from AUis's side, a dim- 
 mer of hopeful light. The girl's patient resolve had 
 worn down the mother's pessimistic dread of antici- 
 pated eviL 
 
 [«08] 
 
if- ' 
 
 THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 'Ton know, AUis/* she had said, "how I look upon 
 this thoroughly unchristian pursuit. Nothing can 
 justify it from a true woman's pob! of view, absolutely 
 nothing— not even poverty. I would willingly suffer 
 the loss of aU we possess— that it is so little is due to 
 tlus dreadful, immoral horse racing— but I would sac- 
 nflce even what remains, if your father were well and 
 wilhng to start afresh in some occupation befitting his 
 noble character. I would help him to endure every 
 hardship, even deprivation, without a murmur." 
 
 "But, mother,'* interrupted Allis, "it's impossible 
 now; I think it always was, for, as you know, father 
 knew nothing of other business. Nothing would tempt 
 him to be dishonest in racing, and he always enjoyed 
 it because of his love for horses. But with all that, 
 mother, if he had been in a position to please you, if 
 he had felt that we— you, and Alan, and I— would not 
 have suffered, I am sure he would have listened to your 
 pleadings and given it up. He might perhaps have 
 gone on breeding horses, for you wouldn't have objected 
 to that, would you, mother?" 
 
 "No, it's the wicked associations of the race course 
 which I felt degraded a man of your father's character. 
 But I'm not going to dishearten you, Allis, nor hamper 
 you now in your brave acceptance of the task that haa 
 come to you, because of wrong done before. It is dis- 
 tasteful to me, of course; it would be to any right- 
 minded mother, to have her daughter in a position so 
 repellant; but, strange as it may seem, I'd rather you 
 went with the horses than Alan." 
 
 "Alan couldn't go, mother; he couldn't give up hia 
 place in the bank; besides, father has purposely kept 
 him from racing." *r j r 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO 
 
 '*I know it, Allis; I wasn't thinking of that, though. 
 Alan has the gambling spirit born in him; it's not his 
 fault; if 8 the visitation of the sins of the father upon 
 the son. It came to jour father in just the same way. 
 No, I'm not even blaming your father for it; it h&s 
 come down from generation to generation; but there 
 has never been dishonor, thank Gk>d — ^there has never 
 been a dishonest Porter in my husband's family, and, 
 please God, there never may be. That would be too 
 much I It would kill me. And ifs better that you go, 
 Allis, for Alan is but a boy, and the temptations to a 
 young man at the race course must be almost impossible 
 to resist. Besides, your going may bring new life to 
 your father; the doctor is so hopeful — ^he says it will. 
 He was afraid that he had shocked me, when he said 
 you were to win races for your father's good. It dis- 
 pleased the pastor ; I know it did, but perhaps he doesn't 
 quite understand how much we have at stake." 
 "He's so narrow, mother." 
 
 "The Beverend Mr. Dolman thinks only of our souls, 
 daughter; naturally, too, and one can hardly be a 
 Christian and race horses. But we have got so much to 
 consider. I hope I am not wrong in feeling glad that 
 you are able to look after our interests. I should like to 
 pray for your success even, Allis. It might be wrong; 
 I might feel guilty; but if it makes your father better, 
 don't you think I'd be forgiven?" 
 
 'Tm sure you would, mother, and it would make me 
 stronger. I'm so glad. I didn't want to displease you. 
 I wanted you to feel that I was doing right. It will be 
 lighter now; I sha'n't mind what anybody says if you're 
 with me, mother. Now everything will come out right; 
 I know it will. And if it does, if father gets strong, 
 
 [«05] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 just out of thankfulness, I'U coax him to try Bomethiiu 
 else, for your sake, mother/* 
 
 "No, for his own, Allis. I think only of him in this 
 matter.'* 
 
 The prospective commencement of the racing cam- 
 paign seemed to foreshadow a complete fulfillment of 
 the doctor's prophecy should success smile upon this 
 modem Joan of Arc; for the bustle of preparation 
 was music to the ears of the stricken man, and he fought 
 the lethargic fever of discontent that was over him until 
 his eyes brightened and his face took on a hopeful look 
 of interest. 
 
 "Brave little woman,'^ he said to AlHs, "it's a shame 
 for a great hulk as I am to Ue up here, while you fight 
 tHe sharks that were almost too much for your father*' 
 
 Then he spoke a little lower, as a man utters unfa- 
 miliar words for the first time. "Your mother said 
 that Providence would look after you. Sounds strange. 
 dojntit,girl? But I'm glad. Your mother was si 
 bitter— I dont blame her— now she*s turned right 
 around. And, AlHs, I believe with a little tempting, a 
 httle coaxing, she*d almost have a bet on Lucretia in 
 your hands. Funny, isn't it P* And he gave a Uttle 
 chuckle. 
 
 AUis hadn't heard her father laugh for a long time. 
 
 HvJT«*r'^-\« ^ l«^«N/ery dry, and very short 
 lived, hardly hghting up his face at aU, but stiU it was 
 the feeble pulsation of humor which showed that the 
 old John Porter spirit was not quite broken. 
 
 "About the betting, AUis, you must have Dixon come 
 down here to see me, for the horses are to iro to hia 
 stable again, aren't they?" 
 
 "Yes, father." 
 
 [S06] 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO 
 
 *TTiaf8 right. I thought we had arranged it that 
 way, but I seem to forget things since that bad tumble." 
 
 'TTou don't forget much now, father; you're getting 
 ■tronger in every way." 
 
 **Blamey, girl. But I don't mind; your blarney is 
 like the sunshine, that comes through the window every 
 day at ten. Ah, I know to the very minute when to 
 look for it. But about Dixon. Have him come down, 
 for we must arrange to back Lucretia— she's worth it. 
 She's been doing well, hasn't she, girl? God! why 
 can't I go out into the open and see the little mare do 
 just one gallop? And then I'd like to sit and look at 
 the trees sway back and forth in the wind. Their swing 
 is like the free gallop of a good horse." 
 
 He dropped the brief, fretful remonstrance against 
 fate with an apologetic turning away of his head, and 
 continued about the Trainer. 
 
 "Lucretia's in the Brooklyn, Allis; you know that, 
 of course. If Dixon starts her, the stake alone will be 
 about enough to run for, for a three-year-old has a 
 tough job ahead in that mob of picked horses. But 
 you'll get a line on her there— I think she'll win with 
 ninety-two pounds up; but if she shows good form, 
 then shell have to be backed for the Brooklyn Derby. 
 Lucretia's the best three-year-old in the land, I know. 
 Well have to arrange for that money. There will be a 
 couple of thousand to be had if it seems safe business. 
 You and Dixon will judge of that. You're taking 
 Lauzanne, girl. Is it worth while?" 
 
 '*Lauzanne is going to do great things for us, father. 
 I'm sure of it." 
 
 "StiU young, AUis. I talked like that when I was 
 your age. Fancy and horse racing go arm in arm al- 
 
 [«07] 
 
THOROUOHBRED8 
 
 win?^-' ^^"""iK' "**'^ «^'^' y«w '"th may make 
 h^^Z ZV"^ ^ *^ ^"°'««*''' speed wm Sn^ 
 Her to the front, 80 you may Btrike a bit ofluck at St^ 
 
 X - 
 
 [«08] 
 
xxm 
 
 A raw days later Mike Gaynor took the stable up to 
 Gravesend. Dixon had a cottage there, which he^ oc- 
 cupied with his wife, and Allis was to stop with them. 
 
 On the 20th of May the horses were settled in their 
 racing quarters. Only four days remained for intro- 
 ducing Lucretia to the Gravesend track; on the 24th 
 she would take up her ninety-two pounds and be tested 
 to the utmost in the great Brooklyn Handicap. 
 
 Dixon fel* that several things were in her favor. 
 She was as quiet as an old cow at the post ; many false 
 starts would improve rather than diminish her chances, 
 for nothing seemed to excite the gallant little brown 
 mare. Her great burst of speed would enaMe the 
 jockey to get out of the ruck and steal a good place to 
 lie handy at the leader's heels. She could be nurtad 
 to the last furlong of the stretch, for the sight of horses 
 in front would not daunt her brave spirit. 
 
 Against the mare were two or three rather important 
 factors; shie was slight of build, not overstrong, and the 
 crush of contending horses might knock her out of her 
 stride, should they dose in. Then there was just a 
 rospicion of lack of staying power in the Assassin 
 stra:'n; Lucretia might not quite last the mile and a 
 quarter so early in the season, being a mare. However, 
 she had a chance. 
 
 "But rd hardly call it a betting chance," Dixon said, 
 speaking to Allis; "there's never been a three-year-old 
 
 [«09] 
 
THOSOUOHBREDS 
 
 to Dnfl^"?!?^ ^- .'■^'" ■» •P«^»8» "xnwh 
 to put down the ijney later on— in the DMbv w tkl 
 
 mere past ont weU." ^''' " *" 
 
 dn^rf; .^ •'"' •»• got an .b»lnte lead-rioe 
 •nother of hi. ooiuerratiTe aphoriun. 
 »~;rJ.r*?* "° ''* '^' •■•* ne"f teen boolced a< a 
 other hand, bringing the scale, of equity to a Ld Lrf 
 
 bilk for binn nor let an account .tand oyer fw a thT 
 Jib. w„ in g«d h.„a., and, wlTridl^to fte y^e 
 
 Jdnce. The Trainer's opinion va. borne out by th. 
 Fa^ritiBm for the Brooklyn was divided between 
 
 SBS?— ^-^ 
 
 Jockey Bedpath had been riding Lucretia in her «1 
 loi» since she had come to GravSend A? w i^^" 
 had been singularly formate ^^Lt^J i^?*^- 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE 
 
 Bedpath waf jut making his repntation, making it aa 
 all jockey reputations are made, by winning races. 
 
 This somewhat unstndiei'' tactcr in racing had loomed 
 large on his mental vision. It might be possible to 
 acquire a reputation in other professions by good for- 
 tune or favor. As a jockey, a light weight might pos- 
 sibly make money by dishonest methods, though that 
 itself seemed doubtful, but there was no way to rise to 
 the top of the tree except by riding winners; verily 
 there was one royal road to fame in the field. Knowing 
 all this, Bedpath rode to win. 
 
 On the 32d Dixon gave Lucretia a good strong three- 
 quarter gallop over the handicap course; on the 23d 
 she had a quiet canter; and on the morning of the 24th, 
 the eventful day, she poked her mouse-brown nozzle 
 over the bar of her stall when Allis came to look at her 
 and seemed to say, "1*11 do my part to-day.'* 
 
 Nothing could have been wished for in Lucretia's 
 appearance that wasn't there, except just the faint 
 suspicion of a sacrifice of strength to speed. But if the 
 frame wasn't there, the good strong heart was; the 
 courage and the gentleness, and the wisdom, and the 
 full glow of perfect health. 
 
 For hours the trains had borne to Long Island crowd 
 after crowd of eager, impatient New Yorkers. Lovers 
 of horses, lovers of gambling, pure and simple; holiday 
 makers, and those who wished to see the Brooklyn run 
 out of sheer curiosity; train after train whirled these 
 atoms of humanity to the huge gates of the Gravesend 
 arena, wherein were to battle that day the picked 
 thoroughbreds, old and young. 
 
 Even like bees, black-coated and buzzing, the eager 
 ones swarmed from the cars and rehived in the great 
 
 [«11] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 ahve becuw of their buzz; tier after tier, from «t^ 
 roof, the serrated line of white-faced homanitv waited 
 for the grand ztruggle. «™«"y waiiaa 
 
 ^ITllf"!? f*?.''? **'** • "**» **«* '^w «U- Horiei 
 not the Brooklyn. And also the second was but another 
 
 ^!L I ^ ^'?''* *?1 **' '^^** *»**^« interest were the 
 horses I Venly neither was it the Brooklyn, and it 
 was the Brooklyn forty thousand pairs of eyes had 
 come to see. ^ 
 
 u^"^ ^ **^ ^^^ ""« "»«" «' »*~°« voices bel- 
 lowed words of money odd., and fuU-muscled shoulders 
 pushed and carried heads about that were intent on 
 toancial buBinesses. But what of that ? It was not the 
 Brooklyn, it was gambling. 
 
 «^* i^.^the paddock a smrJl brown mare of gentle 
 aspect, wih big soft eyes, full of a dreamy mem«^ of 
 fr^h-shooting graw, walked with easy stride an 
 elliptical circle. Her fetiocks fair kissed the short 
 grass in an unstable manner, as though the joints were 
 all too supple. Inside of the circle stood Allis Porter 
 ^d a man square of jaw and square of shoulder, that 
 
 kSa£ui1t.2^ '' "^^' "^ ^^ ^ -00- 
 
 I'^^'-Z ""o^y^ ^*^^ " ^^ ^^^> with square 
 solemnity. "When the/ve beat the litti; mare S^U 
 be catchin' the judge's eye." ^ 
 
 • l"^T\°?**S*?? ""ow, Mike, but just a hope for 
 a little luck,** added the girl. ^ 
 
 *Tre*r talking now. Miss AUis. Luck's the trick 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE 
 
 from thii <mt. The little mareni hare t straight ran 
 tbii trip. Hero'i the b'y oomin' now, and a oood b'v 
 he ii.** « J^ 
 
 A little loan in bine jacket and white itan joined 
 them, iainting Miss Allis with his riding whip. "Are 
 you going to win, Bedpath?** asked the giri. 
 
 "I'm going to try, Miss. She's a sweet mare to ride, 
 bnt it's a big field. There's some boys riding that 
 ought to be in the stable mbbing horses." 
 
 'TTouTl have to get out in front," said Dixon, speak- 
 ing low; "your mare's too light to stand crowdin', an' 
 even if you have to take her back for a breather after 
 you've gone half the journey, shell come again, for 
 she's game." 
 
 *Them Langdon fellows thinks they've got a great 
 chance wif our cast-off, Diablo," volunteered Mike. 
 '*I had a peep at him in the stall, an* he's lookin' 
 purtyfit." . 
 
 "£r« never was no dass," objected Dixon. 
 
 "If ye'd see him gallop the day he run away, ye'd 
 think he had dass," said Mike. "Bof fumbe up I 
 ye'd a fought it was the flyin' Salvator." 
 
 "Well, we'U soon know all about it," declared Dixon 
 "There's the saddlin' bell. Have you weighed out. 
 Eedpath? Weight aU right, ninety-two pounds?" 
 
 "All right, sir. It was a dose call to make it, 
 though; there was a few ounces over." 
 
 "All the better; ifs a hot day, an' if they're long at 
 the post itTl take them spare ounces out of you, I fancy." 
 
 Dixon held up his finger to the boy that was leading 
 Lucretia, and nodding his head toward the stall led 
 the way. 
 
 ''We're number seven, Mike," said Allis, looking at 
 
 C«18] ^ 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 the lMth«r tug which carried the figure on Jockey Bed- 
 peth'i right arm. 
 
 ** There's lack in odd nmnben, eaid Bory CMoort/ " 
 qnoted Mike. 
 
 *Tre a raperttitiow dread of wren," the girl said; 
 ''iff the one number that I always associate with dis- 
 aster—I don't mind thirteen a bit." 
 
 *^e11 break the bad lock seven to-day/' asserted 
 Uttle Bedpath, bravely. 
 
 "I hope M)," answered Allis. *1iet me put my finger 
 on the number for good luck," and she touched the 
 badge on his arm. ''Now I'm going up to get a good 
 seat in the stand," shA continued; ''I'll leave Lncretia 
 to yon, Bedpath." 
 
 [«U] 
 
XXIV 
 
 As the dight flgnrc, looking slighter itill in a long 
 tniling noe coat, pasted throngh the paddock gate to 
 the stand enclosure, Mike Oaynor spoke to the jockey. 
 
 **Bedpath, me b'y, if s up to ye to put yer best leg 
 forward to-day. Ye'r ridin* for the greatest little 
 ▼Oman in this big country. In all the stand up there, 
 wif their flounces and jewels, there isn't a lady like 
 her. Not wan a? them judys kin touch her as a rale 
 
 S roper lady. Ood bless me, she's de sweetest—" then 
 e checked himself; he was going to say the sweetest 
 'ily, but CTcn to his rough-hewn mind, tutored only 
 by horse lore, it seemed sacril^ to speak of Miss Porter 
 as anything but a lady. 
 
 **You*re right, Mike,** concurred the little man; *«I*d 
 rather ride the mare for her than White Moth, or The 
 King, or any of the fayorites for their owners.** 
 
 **An* the ould man lyin* there at home on his back, 
 eh, Bedpath? He's as good as gold hisself; that*8 
 where the girl gets it; not sayin' a word ag*in Mrs. 
 Porter; she don*t understand, that*s all. But ye*ll 
 put up the ride of your life, me b*y, won*t ye?** 
 
 1*U do that, old chap.** 
 
 ••MikeTl stand by ye,** affirmed Gaynor. «Say, 
 Vy," and he turned and looked squarely into the eyes 
 of the little man, "I know if they beats ye to-day, 
 *twon*t be yer fault— 'cause why?"— and he put his 
 hand on Bedpath's shoulder— ** 'cause ye'r like many 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 another man, sweet on the young Missis. Now, now, now 
 stop that r and he held up his finger wamingly, as the 
 other raised his voice in mild protest; "ifs to yep 
 cjredit. It'll do ye no good in wan way, av coorse, for, 
 as ye say, she'U never know it/' Bedpath had not 
 made the statement Mike attributed to him, but the 
 latter was giving him a kindly pointer. "But ifU do ye 
 no harm. The likin' av a good woman will sometimes 
 make a man av a scoundrel, but ye'r a long way from 
 bem that, me b'y; so ifU do ye tons av good. There's 
 the bugle; go an* mount, an' 101 watch how ye set 
 on; an' good luck to ye." 
 
 Regally, one after 'another, in stately file, the turf 
 kings, decked out with the silken jackets that rested 
 a-top— crimson, and gold, and blue, and white, and 
 magpie, passed through the paddock gate to the newly 
 smoothed course. Very modest and demure number 
 seven, the little brown mare, looked beside the strong- 
 muscled giants, bright bay, golden chestnut, and raven- 
 wing black, that overshadowed her in the procession 
 that caught the forty thousand pairs of eyes. Some- 
 tting of this thought came to Allis, sitting in the stand. 
 Wh^ a frail Kttle pair they were, both of them, and to 
 be there battling for this rich prize that was so hardly 
 fought for, by strong men athirst for gold, and neat 
 horses a-keen for the gallop I 
 
 Ah, there was Diablo, the very number Allis had 
 said carried no dread for her, thirteen. What a strange 
 coincidence I What a cruel twist of fate it would beif 
 he were to win I— he looked equal to it. A man sitting 
 at AUis's elbow suddenly cried in a voice enthused into 
 the joyous treble of a boy's : 'Xook at that big Black: 
 isnt heabeaut? Number thirteen. Thafs a hoodoo 
 
 [«16] 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR 
 
 number, if you like; ifs enough to give a backer cold 
 feet." 
 
 **I thought you weren't superatitiouB, Bex;*' this was 
 a woman's yoice. 
 
 *Tm not, an' I'm going straight down to back that 
 Black, thirteen and all." 
 
 On AUis's other side one of the party was ticking off 
 thehorsesby their numbers as they passed; "One two 
 ttafs White Moth; they say she'U win; three' Bed 
 BoTer; four, what's that? thafs George L.; five, six 
 seren; just look at that Uttle runt. What is it? Oh' 
 LuCTetia. Might as weU run a big calf, I should think."' 
 Shes just lovely," declared a lady in the party. 
 Shes as graceful as a deer, and I'm sure shell run as 
 fast as any of them." 
 
 "Can't live in that mob; theyTl smother a Uttle thing 
 like her, declared the man, emphaticaUy. "Where ai« 
 we-ten, eleven. The King, thafs the winner for a hun- 
 dred. Look at him. He carries my money. Ifs all 
 over now; they can't beat him. Thafs a fine looker, 
 ^cragh, thirteen,— Diablo, eh? Whafs that horse 
 Diablo, George r turning to one of the men. 
 
 "No good-* maiden; I looked them aD up in the 
 dope book; how they expect to win the Brooklyn with 
 A maiden gets beyond me." 
 
 Sompwhat tortured, AUis listened to the voluble man 
 on her Irft, who was short and fat, and red of face, as 
 he graded, with egotistical self-sufficiency, the thirteen 
 competitors for the big Handicap. Lucretia he had 
 passed oyer in disdain. Crude as his judgment seemed. 
 MTogantly insufficient, it affected Allis disagreeably. 
 Now that everything had been done, that the last 
 minute of suspense was on, she was depressed. The ex- 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 •turtiiig port. HowftJtft^ T^^ ""' ^'"" •» f" 
 dotted IteW bIJS^^ '™"'° T '^ ■»» »!» 
 
 each Uttle^\ TT ^^ ^'^ T°^*« obserrimce 
 ue act in this P«tttomime of the last-mmnte 
 I xl8 J 
 
 X 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR 
 
 plunge. JuBt beneath where she sat two men were 
 haying a moBt energetic duel of words. A slim, dark- 
 skinned youth, across whose fox-like face was written 
 m lag;e letters the word "Tout,- was hammering into 
 his obdurate companion the impossibility of some^rtain 
 horse being defeated. Presently the other man's hand 
 went into his pocket, and when it came forth again 
 five ten-doUar bills were counted with neryoufT 
 luctance and hesitatingly made over to the Tout. Ti^ht 
 dutehmg his prize this pUot of the race course slipped 
 Alhs 8 gight and became lost in the aninited 
 
 aTUtl^rr" "' ^"^^^ ^^^ '^"^^PP^ ^ - 
 
 Within all that enclosure there seemed no one pos- 
 
 aeBMd of any calm. To the quiet girl it was a stn^ 
 
 revelation; no one could have as much at stake asX 
 
 ?h5i?K ^^ TI ^'' "P^* ^"^ ^^ nothing beyond 
 thought Ah, the assertion was too sweeping. Coiiinir 
 
 foi^w n^ "* * ^^"* °**^o^' 0' a full-leafed 
 forwt, for aU there was of agitation in his piesenoT A 
 
 ttjt faoedistraught but once. The coUected m^ ^ 
 
 was nervous strain was something 
 
 na^wJ^L*^^ imimpassioned face lighted up; the 
 narrow-hdded eyes gleamed with brightened interest 
 As eagerly „ a boy their owner. Crane, came for^ 
 and salute^ Allh. At that instant the' mTofm^ 
 
 rti^^'ur^ "". ^''"^ ^' ««»* *« chase tii^^J 
 the mterminable crowd on the lawn a new vict^ 
 
 [«19] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 Ap^A*!^?'^*** *** ^ »^°°« ^ ^ short time of trial 
 
 ^fj^* .?*.'^^* *^* h«' »»«»rt ^ould tort 
 
 n^. 1 ' J** ^"y *^* ^"»°« h«d come. 
 rr.nJJ^^°^ '" y*»^'" *^« «^d; "I want to see 
 J,Zr *\"'J^i *J«t "> i'-I meai, like e^nr oth« 
 man here, I have harked back to my natural iSLTS 
 covetous acqniBition an^ had a bet L7 ^"^ ^' 
 
 "Not Lucretiar 
 
 I)o"^^«lt* 'S ^^"°- ^'"^gdon thinks he>ll win. 
 «T?w JS'x^^ y^ement about his purchaser 
 '^^ iV^ I've half forgotten it." 
 Just a little bet on your account, you know." 
 
 ^,J'.,^, ^^^^^'^ but that was only in fun, 
 it!ll^ySVi?i^:^r^^'''^^^^ YouOltake 
 
 ro^ofZt"^'^.'^'^"^^- In a second^ 
 
 to s^Iho,:Ss^^ '"*' ** ^«^ "•*^*'" '"^ «P 
 to3' *k/*^ •*S!'" ~^^ ^"°«' q^«tly> tuning 
 Miss Allis, had the starter let them go Lucreti* Cl 
 
 they had to go back-he was left standing" ' 
 Cranes voice was Fate's voice. Would there never 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR 
 
 be anything but Lucretia and Diablo, seyen and thir- 
 teen, thirteen and seven? 
 
 '^Diablo's a bad horse at the post, sure/' ejaculated 
 Crane, letting his field glass rest for an instant on his 
 knee; 'lie just backs up and shakes his head yiciously; 
 eridently he doesn't like the idea of so much company/' 
 
 "How is Lucretia acting, Mr. Crane ?** 
 
 'Terfectly. You must have instilled some of your 
 own patience in' j her." ^ 
 
 The girl hardly heard the implied compliment 
 
 Would the patience be rewarded? Or would thirteen, 
 that was symbolical of evil, and its bearer, Diablo, who 
 was an agent of evil, together snatch from her this 
 prize that meant so much? It was strange th she 
 should not think of the other horses at all. It is as 
 though there were but two in the race — ^Lucretia and 
 Diablo— and yet they \ •'re both outsiders. 
 
 "The Starter is having a^bad time of it; that makes 
 six false breaks," said Allis's companion; "it will end 
 by his losing patience with the boys, I fear, and let 
 them go with something off in a long lead. But v y 
 say this Fitzpatrick is a cool hand, and gives no man the 
 best of it. He^l probably fine Diablo's rider a hundred 
 dollars; I believe it's customary to do that when a 
 jockey persistently refuses to come up with his horses. 
 Just look at thai I — ^the black fiend has lashed out and 
 nearly crippled something." 
 
 '*Not Lucretia, Mr. Crane I" gasped Allis. 
 
 "No, if 8 a chestnut— :there they go! Good boy, 
 Watley. I mean Diablo's jockey has done a fiendish 
 clever thing. He came through b^ horses on the jump, 
 carried them off their feet, they all broke— yes, the flag's 
 down, and he's out with a clean lead." 
 
THOBOUOBBRE08 
 
 Down to froBt • beU wu choging tmIomIt- nMnU 
 idolT'.S^ I»d spoken truly; , jie.t rtriatog U.A, 
 
 taoe he WIS ch«g«d; the quick brevity It U. utt^ 
 
 3^-, wX^j r^<- -^w 
 
 howe ** -""ex, ne s miming like a good 
 
 ''Your mare is creeping up, Mi« AlliB; she's Beooiid 
 
 [ftf ] 
 
 V - 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR 
 
 to the ^ack now, and they've stiU a good three forlonn 
 tefPB. Youmaywinyet. It takes a good horse to mSe 
 •U his own running for a mile and a quarter and then 
 m. His light weight may land him ilrst past the post 
 There are only four in it now, the rest are beaten off 
 •me. Diablo is stiU in the lead; White Moth and Lu- 
 eretia are a length back; and The King is next, run- 
 ning strong. It's the same into the stretch. Now the 
 boys are riding; Lucretia is drawing away from White 
 Mothr-she's pressing Diablo. YouTl win yetP 
 
 His Toice was drowned by the clamor that went up 
 ^ every side. "Diablo I White Moth I Lucretia r 
 What a babel of yeUsI ''He's beat! Come on!" It 
 WM deafening. All the conjecture of months, all the 
 hopes and fears of thousands, compressed into a few 
 bnef seconds of struggling endeavor. 
 
 Mis had sat down. There was less frenzied exdte- 
 nent thus. 
 
 *God of Justice!" it was Crane's voice, close to her 
 ew; his hot breath wss on her cheek; he had leaned 
 down, so that she might hear him. "Your jockey has 
 sold you, or else Lucretia quit. I thought I saw him 
 paUhero«f. Tm sorry. Miss Allis, CM knows I am, 
 though Fve won— for Diablo is winning easily" Then 
 he straightened up for an instant, only to bend down 
 again and s^, «Yes, Diablo has won. aqd Lucretia is 
 bwten oflf. Perhaps it wasn't the boy, after all, for if s 
 a long journey for a three-year-old mare. Can I do— 
 
 *"Jrl*,,'**' ^"^^ Let me see you down to the 
 paddock.* 
 
 jr^^^'V *^i^'^ answered, struggling with her 
 Toice. TTes, I must go, for Dixon wiU be terribly die- 
 aKwmted. I must go and put a brave face on, I sud- 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 V096. If« all over, and it cta't be hfiltiMl u-* — . 
 
 ^^ glad to set avav f^«!!^ ^ *^* victory. She 
 
 gJ^ .#*!."* ''''**''^ » "»"«n an«er tookM.- 
 »M«pii of the race-goen. They had^. ^„J!t 
 deceived; another coup had been nu^- k *7?^?7 
 manipulator T^».J^«r ^ ^■"® "^^ **»* *rick 
 
 r««4] 
 
XXV 
 
 Cbaitk accompanied Allis to the paddock gate; and 
 dM oontinned on to the fatal number seven stall. Lu- 
 cretia had just been brought in, looking very distressed 
 after her hard race. For an instant the girl forgot hev 
 own trouble at sight of the gallant little mare's condi- 
 tion. Two boys were busy rubbing the white-crusted 
 perspiration and dust from her sides; little dark rivu- 
 lets of wet trickled down the lean head that humr 
 wearily. ^ 
 
 **Well, we loetr It was Dixon's voice at Aula's 
 elbow. "Thatnido/'totheboys; *Tieie, put this cooler 
 on, and walk her about." 
 
 Then he turned to Allis again. "She was well up 
 with the leaders half way in the stretch; I tho't she 
 was goin* to win." 
 
 **Wa8 it too far for her, Dixon?" 
 
 The Trainer did not answer at once; with him at all 
 times questions were things to be pondered over. His 
 knitted brows and air of hesitating abstraction showed 
 plainly that this question of Allis's was one he would 
 preifer to answer days later, if he answered it at alL 
 
 '^dn't she stop suddenly?" Allis asked, again. 
 
 "I couldn't just see from where I was what hap- 
 pened," he repUed, evasively; "and I haven't asked the 
 boy yet She may have got shut in. Ah, here he comes 
 now," as the jockey returned from the weighing scales. 
 
 Bedpath seemed to think that some explanation was 
 
 [««5] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 miTTT ^?^® °*^ "^"^ to h«Te a chanoe when I 
 turned hito the .tietch, w' I thought omTiwJ iSa' 
 to wm ; but that big Bkck jnrt kept gdl^, JXSS 
 
 mJJv'ir r*?.«^ *^ ^ head; i/^birsfig 
 
 money, though, ,f aomethin' hadn't bumped me: «? 
 then my m^t juat died away-die juSTW^ to 
 
 ft^ T^u ^* '"I^**^ *^» " » fallini decatoSe m 
 t^h It beet exprewed hi. reaeon UXiSS;^ 
 
 J3* ™''^"u*1J*' "' **»»*'■ aU there i. to it," de. 
 • OMt^fl out of yoiy. father'! itoble, too, ]Ci» Allii 
 
 rweatner. Then, with ponderous gentleness for a Wg. 
 royh-thrown-together man, he continued: 'T)oD't j^ 
 
 ^J^' ^u H?^l?^'« a« right; shell puU yW 
 father through aU this; you just cheer up. IVe^ 
 to go now anMook after her « ^ ^^cgw 
 
 AiiT'f ."«^. Trainer had gone the jockey turned to 
 ^H hesitatingly, and said: 'Dixon's c^t d^t£ 
 
 lf!r^'*i.'*'I^'^^*' I wouldn't sp^e^ 
 ^Zi^ though he's all right too, bulJ^d™ 
 ^ about carefully to see that nobody was withS 
 
 w^t Two men were talking a little farther out in 
 the paddock, and Bedpath, motioning to Allis stenn^ 
 
 ^nit,*^T"*'"iM™ "^ *^ thf onelSeW 
 occupied, «I could a-been in the money." 
 
 .toKJliy- ^"°«^^d that the jockey h«l 
 
 'TTes, Ifiss; you mmstn't blame me, for I took 
 chances of bein' had up afore the Stewards." 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE 
 
 •Yoti did wrong if jou didn't try to win," ezeUimed 
 AUis, angrily. 
 
 1 did tzy to win, but I couldn't I uw thtt I'd 
 neftr catch that big Black; he waa going too itxong; 
 hii kmg itride waa just breaking the little mare*! heart. 
 Sha'a the gamest piece of honeflesb— say, MiM Porter, 
 belitfe me, it juat hurt me to take it out of her, keeping 
 np with that long-legged devil. If I could a-headed 
 him once, juit got to him once— I tried it when we 
 turned into the gtraight— -he'd have quit. But it waa 
 no ui»— the mare couldn't do it. With him out of the 
 race I'd have won; I could a-been eecond or third aa 
 it waa, but it might have done the little mare up lo 
 ■he wouldn't be any good all leaBon. I thought a bit 
 over thia when I was galloping. I knew she was in the 
 Brooklyn Derby, an' when I had the others beat at a 
 mile, thinks I, if the pubUo don't get onto it, Mr. 
 Porter can get all his losses back in the Brooklyn 
 Darby. Thafs why I eased up on the little mare. You 
 don't think I could do anything crooked against you. 
 Miss? Give me the mount in the Derby, an' your 
 either can bet his last dollar that Lucretiall win." 
 
 As he finished speaking Mike Gaynor shuffled moodily 
 uptothem. UsuaUy Mike's clothes suggested a generd 
 despondency; his iHry body, devoid of roundness as a 
 »* trap, seemed inadequate to the proper expression of 
 tteir original design. The habitual air of endeavorlesa 
 decay had been accentuated by the failure of Lucretia 
 to win the Brooklyn. Mike had shrunken into his all- 
 tnveloping coat with pathetic moroseness. The look of 
 pity in his eye when it lighted upon Allis gave place to 
 oi» of rebellious accusation as he turned his head 
 slowly and glared at Bedpath. 
 
TR0R0U0HBRED8 
 
 H^ 
 
 ■P^d^r in • bard, diy, cMUat tone; -. b^dridTS 
 ye mj^t •.tried," .ad he waited for Bedptth'i dSwT 
 dri^^he, to death whan die hadn't the ghoet^ . 
 
 aZ^^I i^'^JS: !^ '" ^P*^'" remonstrated 
 
 »«?.». ♦5: ^^ **^ *•"*"« "^^^ *^«* ^ didn't widi to 
 pnnieh the maie nnneoetiarilj *' 
 
 If Z**«!i*^*^ ~ to win if he could, Min," w^weied 
 MJe, ncj at aU won pyer. 'It wa. . big rtdi^lThe 
 on^t to'jj put np . big finidi. The Black imSd-JI 
 V^i^I'^ T,?* *^ *^ throat-latch; he*. ^j^SS 
 whatheii. An' jnit where ye oonld hire won Se«a? 
 pVap., ye qnit ridin' „,' let him come tonTaSSe' 
 If ■ queer b'y. thaf i ridin' now. Mil.,'' OanT a^' 
 Jjrorfj nodding hi. head in grU72nZr^^^ 
 %«way abruptly, the petulant moroeenie oj^ 
 ceepm than erer in hie wrinkled face •«"^«W 
 
 . ZS^?"^'**"^^.*^' Bedpath," said Allii; «he', 
 J^ faend of our fkmny, and i. upeet OTer thi r!^; 
 
 ^2a t""'* **!rf ^^" »°^«'ed the jo<4ey : «he 
 would have rode it out and spoiled your S wiS 
 
 •rSJS^r?**.^"^^ ^^ ^<>^^o good." 
 J^^^^^^^^^"'"'^««dth^girl. «Iknow 
 
 Don^t do anything like this again. OfcouA^IdSn 
 ^U ^e^* f'f f WondCstrengSS^rU^J 
 
 People might have backed her for the place, and w?w 
 thrown away their money." ^^ 
 
CHAPTEB TWENTY-FIVE 
 
 "Tilt bttton will look After thtir own inteNoti, MiM 
 PMrtar, and th^ wouldn't holp jtm a littlo bit if yon 
 nttcbdit; thoy'd bo mort liko to do jon a bod ton. If 
 I'd driven the more to death, an' been beaten for the 
 plaoe, ae I might have, the papen would hare elated 
 me lor emelty. Yon mnat belieVe that I did it for the 
 beetylliia." 
 
 «I do, and I rappoae I mnit thank yon, bnt doaH 
 do it Bgdn. I'd rather yon didn't carry yonr whip at 
 all on Lncretia; ahe doean't need it; bnt don't eaee her 
 np if yon're |p>t a ehanoe till yon peas the winning 
 poet" 
 
 Aa the two finiahed ipeaking, and moTod away, a thin, 
 freckled face peered fnrtiTely from the door of stall 
 number siz. Jnat the ferret-like eyee and a knife-thin 
 noee showed pait the woodwork, bnt there oonld be no 
 miitaking the animaL It waa Shandy. 
 
 I've gat yon again," he muttered, '^last the whole 
 tribe of yon I I'll jutt pip yon on that dirty work, 
 blowed if I don't" 
 
 [«W] 
 
.' V-. ^ 
 
 XXVI 
 
 Thi Brooklyn had been run and won; won by Lanff- 
 dong stable, and loet by John Porter's. That night 
 Alhs spent hours trying to put into a letter toher 
 mother their defeat and their hopes in such a way as 
 to tove distress to her father. She wound up by siinply 
 •riang her mother to ^t Dr. Bathbone to impart m 
 mu^ mf ormation as he deemed adyisable to his patient 
 They were a very depressed lot at Dixon's cottage 
 tliat evemng. Dixon was never anything else but tad- 
 tun^ and the disappointment of the day was sinmly 
 rerolving in his mind with the monotonous regnli^ 
 ofagrinustone. They had lost, and thafs all there wm 
 about It Why talk it over? It could do no good. He 
 would nurse up Lucretia, and work back into her by 
 mUe gallops a fitting strength for the Brooklyn Derby. 
 Wi^ iiUMsant weariness he rocked back and forft. 
 back and forth in the big Boston rocker; while Allis, 
 at a httle taUe in a comer of the room, sought to com- 
 pose the letter she wished to send home. 
 
 With apathetic indifference the girl heard t <x». 
 •trained knock at the cottage door; she barely looked 
 up as Dixon opened to a visitor. It was Crane irtio 
 entered. 
 
 At almost any other time his visit would have been 
 unpleasant. In his presence even the most trivial con- 
 versation seemed shrouded in a background of inter- 
 ested intentions; but to-night Dixon's constrained 
 
 C««o] 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX 
 
 ^Bptm^aa. weighed heayy on her tpirits and irritated 
 her. 
 
 'lAiok waa againit yon to-day, Dizon," exclaimed the 
 ▼iaiior. 
 
 They were too strong for the little mare/' antweied 
 the Trainer, curtly. "Onr cast-off won, of oonrse, hut 
 there were a half dozen in the race that would hare 
 heaten Lucretia, I fancy." 
 
 Allis looked inquiringly at the Trainer; he had not 
 talked that way to her. Then a light damned upon the 
 giri. She had not assor ^ted Dizon with diplomacy in 
 her mind, she knew tlu, he could maintain a golden 
 silence, but here he was, actually throwing out to the 
 oalkr a disparaging estimate of Lucretia's powers. 
 This perpetual atmosphere of duplicity was positiTely 
 distastefuL In the free gallop of the horses there was 
 nothing but an inspiration to honest enctoavor; but in 
 this subtle diplomacy Allis detected the touch of defile- 
 ment which her mother so strongly resented. Perfaapa 
 to-night she was more sensitiye to depressing influences; 
 at any rate she felt a great weariness of the whole busi- 
 ness. 1%en the spirit of resoWe rose in open rebdlion 
 against these questionings; almost Jesuitical she be- 
 eame at once. What mattered the ways or means, so 
 that she did no wrong? Was not the saying of her 
 father's health and spirit, and his and her mother's 
 wdfsre above all these tririal questionings; did not 
 the end justify the means; mi^^t not her sueoess, if 
 the fates in pity gave her any, save her from— from— 
 •he did not even formulate in thought the contingency, 
 iwr there stood the living embodiment of it— Cranio; 
 everything seemed crowdkg her into the narrow wo- 
 fines of her saerifidal crypt. 
 
I 
 
 THOltOUOHBREDS 
 
 Cnne had spoken to her on his entry. As she wm 
 writing he had continued his discussion of the race 
 with Dixon; perhaps, even— it was a hopeful thought, 
 bom of desire— he had come to see the Trainer. Crane's 
 next words dispelled that illusion. It was in answer 
 to an observation from Dixon that he was forced to go 
 to the stables, that Crane said: "If Miss Porter has no 
 objection 111 remain a little longer; I want to discuss 
 a matter concerning her father." 
 
 Allis felt quite like fleeing to the stables with Dixon; 
 she dreaded that Crane was going to bring up again 
 the subject of his affedfion for her. But the Trainer 
 had passed out before she could muster sufficient moral 
 courage to put in execution her half-formed resolve. 
 
 *n wanted to speak about that wager on Diablo/' 
 began Crane. 
 
 A thrill of relief shot through the girl's heart Why 
 had he troubled himself to come to her over such a 
 trifling matter— a pair of gloves, perhaps half a dosen 
 pairs even. 
 
 "I put the bet on some time ago," he continued, 
 **when Diablo was at a long price. It was only a trifle, 
 •8 we agreed upon—" Allis noticed that he laid par- 
 ticular stress upon "agreed." "But it has netted you 
 quite a nice sum, three thousand seven hundnd and 
 fifty dollars." 
 
 Crane said this in a quiet voice, without unction; 
 but it startled the girl— she stared in blank amazemrait. 
 Her companion was evidently waiting for her to say 
 something; seemed to expect an exclamation of joymis 
 approval She noticed that the gray eyes she so dis- 
 trusted had taken on that distasteful peeping expns- 
 sion, as thouj^ he were watching her walk into a tnp. 
 
 \> 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX 
 
 **1 eumot taks it,** anfwend Allis, dednvely, after a 
 panae. 
 
 Crane raised his hand in mild protest ' 
 
 'It was good of yon, kind; but how oonld I accept 
 a large sum of money like that when I am not entitled 
 toitr 
 
 Ton are — ^ifs yours. The bet was made in your 
 name — ^I entered it at the time in my book, and the 
 bookmaker is ready to pay the money over/' 
 
 "I can't take it— I won't. No, no, no I" 
 
 'a)on't be foolishly sensitive. Miss Allis. Think 
 what your father lost when he parted with Diablo for a 
 trivial thousand dollars; and it was my fault, for I 
 arranged the sale. Tour father's need&— pardon me, 
 but I know b*'3 position, bdng his banker — yes, he needs 
 this money badly." 
 
 ICy father needs a good many things, Mr. Crane, 
 which he would not accept as a ^it; he would be the 
 laat man to do so. We must just go on doing the best 
 we can, and if we can't succeed, thafa alL We can't 
 accept hdp, just yet, anyway." 
 
 ^e iras bitter; the reference to her father's troubles, 
 thou|^ meant iMfftly in kindness, angered her. It 
 caused her to feel the meshes of the net drawing closer 
 about her, and binding her free will. The fight was 
 indeed on. More than ever she detem^ed to strngj^ 
 to the bitter end. Almost indefinably she knew that 
 to accept this money, plausible as tiie ofFering was, 
 meant an advantage to Crane. 
 
 'Ton can't leave this large sum with the book- 
 maker," he objected. "Re would like nothing better; 
 he would laugh in his sleeve. I can't take it; it isn't 
 mine." 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 "I won't touch it." 
 
 perhaps I had better speak to your father about it'* 
 said Crane, tentatively; *T»e can have no objection to 
 accepting thu money that has been won." 
 
 Father won;t take it, either," answered the giri; 
 tie it?^ hig ideas about such matters. He won't 
 
 Grme brought aO his flue reasoning powers to bear 
 on AUis, but faded sigmdly in his objeT He was un- 
 accustomed to being balked, but the girl's firm deter, 
 minab^ was more thi|n a match for his adaptable 
 
 -fr^' ?® ^^ ™»^ »«> headway, was quite bktwi, 
 wnra Duon s opportune return prevented absolute £0- 
 eomfiture. Crane 1^ shorfly, saying to Allis a. he 
 bade them good night: 'Tm swry you look upon the 
 matter m this light. My object ii coming Hi^ 
 WM to give you a little hope for bri^ta^ mlmt 
 gloomy hour of bad luck; but perhaps I had better 
 •peak to your father." i~- 1- u«u oeRv 
 
 1 "^i? ?*^!Ly^ ^^'^" *« answered, somewhat 
 pleadingly. 'Dr. Bathbone has cautioned us all against 
 worrying fiather, ind this could have no other reeult 
 than but to distress him." 
 
 AIUs's letter had been completed, but she now a^ed 
 a postscript, telling her mother briefly of Crane's insist- 
 ence over the bet, and beseeching her to devise senie 
 gM for keeping this new disturbing element from her 
 
 Crane was xonaining over night in Gravesend, and. 
 going back to his quarters, he reviewed the eveninJ! 
 campaign. He had expected opposition from AmTSit 
 S!3 ^^ to overcome the anticipated objections; he 
 had failed in this, but it was only acheck, not d^Mit. 
 
 [i84] 
 
 X^- 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX 
 
 H« tmikd eomplaoaitly orer his power of self -oontiol 
 in hATing allowed no hint of his abeorbing passion to 
 escape him. 
 
 Acceptance of this money by Allis, the money which 
 was the outcome of an isolated generons thought, would 
 have given him a real advantage. To have spoken, 
 thouj^ never so briefly of his hopes for proprietary 
 rights, would have accentuated the girl's sensitive 
 alarm. He was too perfect a tactician to indulge in 
 fuch poor sword play; he had really left the question 
 open. A little thought, influenced by the desperate 
 condition of Porter's fortunes, might make Allis 
 amenable to what was evidently her best interest, should 
 she be approached from a different quarter. 
 
 Crane had made the first move, and met dieckmate; 
 the second move would be through Allis's mother; he 
 detomined upon that course. All his old cunning 
 must have surdy departed from him if he could not 
 win this girL Fate was backing him up most strenu- 
 ously. Diablo had been cast into his hands— thrust 
 upon him by the good fortune that so steadily be- 
 friended him. He was not in the habit of attributing 
 unlooked-for success to Providence; he rarely mat 
 beyond fate for a deity. Unmistakably then it was 
 fate that had cast the horoscope of his and Allis's lifb 
 tegeUier. Never mind what means he might use to 
 carry out tiiis decree; once accomplished, he would 
 more than make amends to the giri. 
 
 He drew most delightful pictures of the Utopian 
 existence his wealth would make possible for Allis. For 
 the father be would provide a racing stable that would 
 bring profit in place of disaster. Crane smiled some- 
 what grimly aa he thought that under those changed 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 ^~H-.-. 
 
 circumitenoei eren Allit*! mother might be brought to 
 condone her huaband's conturaanoe in the nefarioos 
 profesnon. 
 
 If for no other reason than the great niaoeae he had 
 made in the Brooklyn Handicap with Diablo, his spirits 
 were that evening impossible of the reception of even a 
 foreshadowing of failure. A suppressed exhilaration 
 rose-tinted every projected scheme. He would win 
 Alhs, and he would win the Brooklyn Derby with his 
 good colt, The Dutchman. 
 
 He went to sleep in this happy glamour of assured 
 luooess, and, by the inevitable contrariness of things, 
 dreamed that he was falling over a steep precipice on 
 The Dutchman's back, and that at the bottom Morti- 
 mer and Allis were holding a blanket to catch him in 
 his fall. Even in his imaginative sleep, he was saved 
 from a dependence upon this totally inadequate re- 
 ojtacle for a horse and rider, for he woke with a gasp 
 after he had traveled with frightful velocity for an 
 age through the air. 
 
 Crane was a man not given to superstitious enthrall- 
 ment; his convictions were usually founded on bade 
 manifestations rather than fanciful visions; but some- 
 how the nighf s dream fastened upon his mind as he 
 lingered over a breakfast of coffee and rolls. Even three 
 cups of coffee, ferociously strong, failed to drown the 
 rehearsal of his uncomfortable nighfs gallop. Why 
 had he linked Mortimer and Allis together? Had it 
 been fate again, prompting him in his sleep, giving him 
 warning of a rival that stood closer to the girl than he ? 
 More than once he had thought of Mortimer as a 
 possible rival. Mortimer was not handsome, but he 
 was young, tall, and square-shouldered— even his somo- 
 
 [«86] 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX 
 
 whftt plain face leemed to reflMt a tall, iqiiaM* 
 •hooldond character. 
 
 SnbocHiscionily Crane turned his head and leanned 
 oitically the reflection of his own face in a somewhat 
 disconsolate mirror that misdeoorated a panel of the 
 bieakfast room. Old as the glass was, somewhat be* 
 reaved of its quicksilver lining at the edge, it had not 
 got orer its habit of telling the truth. Ordinarily Uttlo 
 exception could hare been taken to the mirrorea face; 
 it was intellectual; no sign-manual of cardinal sin had 
 been placed upon it ; it was neither low, nor brutal, nor 
 wolfidily cunning in expression. Its pallor rather loaned 
 an air of distingue, but — and the examination was 
 bdng conducted for the benefit of a girl of twenty — ^it 
 was the full-aged visage of a man of forty. 
 
 More than ever a conviction fixed itself in Crane's 
 mind that, no matter how strong or disinterested his 
 knre for Allis might be, he would win her only by 
 difdonuu^. After all, he was better versed in that form 
 of love-making, if it might be so called. 
 
 Crane was expecting Langdon at ten o'dodc He 
 heard a step in the breakfast room, and, turning his 
 head, saw that it was the Tndnar. Mechanically Crane 
 pulled his watch from his pocket; he had thouj^t it 
 earli^; it was ten. Langdon was on time to a minute. 
 Nominally what there was to discuss, though of large 
 import, required little expression. With matters going 
 so smoothly there was little but araurances and con- 
 gratulations to be exchanged. Diablo's showing in tiie 
 big Handicap confirmed Langdon's opinion that both 
 the Black and The Dutchman had given them a great 
 tsrial ; probably they would duplicate their success with 
 The Dutchman in the Brooklyn Derby. It was only a 
 
 C«8T] 
 
THQROUOHBREDS 
 
 SSSv wJ^^ dy.. and the «« of Htiww M 
 •*«^^FroTed; he ww in grwd fettle. ^ 
 
 bei^L'ffS^*^" of Cnme>, deveme- hid 
 Men mbttioed hj the raooeirifnl tenniiution of iLt k! 
 
 S^ Jn'J^'?^* tl^oiight'tlSr^'^lh^ 
 luindicp ^SliSS: ^ ^'^ ^ *»^ l««»d DUblo', 
 
 fliuhMi Wirt; *k jL-vf ftnven end enooeeded and ere 
 
 ^e.; •!» nu. . pretty good Moe for , thwe-yeu- 
 Do"™ t** "' I •2'^ ""^ •»«* >«» in the DMbT 
 m^ topp«l M „rtorf.yj tat l'« he^,o,» 
 
 "Bedpeth tdd her," p,««^ L,.,g^ ^ ^ 
 
CHAPTER TWBNTy-SEt 
 
 1» Mir he ecraldii't quite win he polled his monnt off 
 to keep her derk for the Derby." 
 
 ••How do yoiu know thiiT 
 
 "A boy in my eteble happened to be in the itall an' 
 heard 'em." 
 
 'H^ho'i the boy? Can yon beliere him?" 
 
 If I Shandy. He need to be with the Porters." 
 
 like a flash it came to Crane that the spy mnst be 
 the <me who had written him the note about FaustTand 
 the change of saddles. 
 
 '^ell, that doesn't affect us, that I can see," com- 
 mented Crane. ^Fm not backing their mare." 
 
 It means/' declared Langdon, with great earnest- 
 ness, ^•that if Lucretia could haye beat all the others 
 but Diablo, she has a rosy chance for the Derby; thafs 
 what it means. The Black got away with a flyin* start, 
 and she wore him down, almost beat him; I doubt if 
 The Dutchman could do that much. She was givin' 
 him a little weight, too." 
 
 **Well, we can't help it. I've backed The Dutchman 
 to win a small fortune, and I'm going to stand by it. 
 You're in it to the extent of ten thousand, as you know, 
 and we've jnst got to try and beat her with our colt; 
 tiiaf s all there is to it" 
 
 **I Am't like it," muttered Langdon, surlily. "She's 
 a mighty good three-year-old to put up a race like that." 
 
 *She may go off before Derby day," suggested Crane ; 
 ''mares are uncertain at this time of year." 
 
 *T^8 just it; if she would go off we'd fed pretty 
 •ore then. I tiiink the race is between them." 
 
 *|Well, well know race day; if she goes to the poet. 
 Judging from what you say, itTl be a pretty tight fit." 
 
 •She didn't cut much figure last year when Lau- 
 
 [JM9] 
 
THQROUOHBRZDS 
 
 SSSiSi^- ^^»«?«» -^d thi. with . d».wBni 
 
 ssi^mj*"**^ «»id b« got .t, M hw iMt w5b 
 
 lJ^'.^i!? l!T "H»«n^M« for th« briMag of 
 
 I^«^» lockey, though lie w.. wdl .w« whShS 
 
 «»w»d; h^ eren profited by it "** 
 
 loerell be no crooked work thie time" hm mmUi» 
 
 •nd he looked •ignifictnttT tt Langdon. ^^ 
 
 JTdon't thiBk they wih,« wTttJ^^fa^er g..e a 
 J««weable kiigh. , «Fiom what ShandyteL^ I 
 
 i^**JS^^^J*'^.«^- ThetliSLof^iStal 
 li that godmg Bedpath is ituck on the aal" ^^ 
 ^we;! ptle fboe flndied hot. 
 
 ^WjBTe that Shan^ you .peak of i. a lying littlt 
 ■«T^. I ly»ve an idea that he wrote meVnotoTI 
 w«^ ^srawl once. Wait, I>e got it in my Z&t! 
 
 l«.S^*n. fr«m the inner pocket of hie coat • 
 tojthjr CMC, a^ after a «M«di fonnd Shandj^ 
 
 kee? ttiJ^S? *^^"** ®*^^^ '^^^ **• ^^ 
 
 •TouVe welcome to it/' answered Crane; >a can 
 
 ■ettleinthhim. .But about the Derby, I hire wLcm 
 
 ^link??**'.^!"'^ I>oyouunder.Sdr 
 
 ^::'«^siiitnt'rw^t.?^^^~**«^*»^ 
 
 [«40] 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX 
 
 *I VM&t goln' to put up no giiM with him, dr.* 
 
 ''Of oonne not, of oonne not. It wouldn't do. Ha't 
 • ilrtight b^y I think, and jut loate him to rido the 
 bttt h« knowB how. We've got a better Jockey in Weit> 
 ligr. Beiidei, the Brooklyn Handicap hae taken a lot 
 oat of their mare; they may find that ihell go back 
 after it. I think you'd betior get rid of that Shandy 
 serpent; he leema ripe for &ay denltry. Ton cant 
 tdl but what he might get at The Dutchman if leme- 
 body paid him. If Fm any judge of outlawed human 
 nature, he'd do it I'tc got to run down to Brookfleld 
 on a matter of businees, but ihall be back again in a 
 day or lo. Juat keep an eye on The Dutchman — but I 
 needn't tell you that, of course." 
 
 That two-year-old I bought at Morris Park ia 
 eoa^^n' an' runnin' at the note; I blistered his throat 
 last night; he's got influensa," volunteered the Trainer. 
 
 "Seep him away from The Dutchman, then." 
 
 I've got him in another bam; that stuff's u catchin' 
 n measles." 
 
 "If The Dutchman were to get a touch of it. Porter 
 would land the Derby with Lueretia, I fancy." 
 
 "Or if they got it in their stoble we'd be on Easy 
 Street" 
 
 "I suppose so. But Dixon's pretty sharp; heOl look 
 0^ if he hears if s about. However, we^re got to watdi 
 our own hrase and let them do the same." 
 
 [«41] 
 

 xxvn 
 
 '^»« to lew tewlr^^ **<».•»« they w«. oob- 
 
 •^"•i"*" ^^^ "»* • ""^ W JWtUn' ant 
 
 ^e S*" - «»• t»i«l.« «p to glw Briprth tb. 
 JWI«.f.M.UttI.g«„., l.b.gri.«toh«Ig,„a, 
 
 diSIt.'i'lJiU^J?' ^ '^^««'- 8«r.i»'.th. 
 
 the Derby lii d„K tt.^,^';'' "" « 
 
 out 
 race 
 
CRAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN 
 
 'Vat ain't tlMfoiii' to gftdok? We ooold whip-MV 
 tbni both wtyt tbm, thaf • if w« kiMw it flnt looaU 
 ky afaiost bar an' baek jour hone." 
 
 1 wish the old man waaa't so dariliF^ Ccep; ht 
 makaf me tind eometiinee; gitee it to me f>t iii«ht 'a 
 one breath that he'e got reaaone for wanti:' tu win th^ 
 raoe, an' thn he polls that preacher tm,,' oh. Jo-^u 
 a peg an' eayi, idemn like: 'But don'f - 'k.i*rc < i(h 
 their Jockej.' Then he talke about 1h«^ D itchTDan - 
 lAoetia gettin' the influenia, an' t'mt Avly Diior ii 
 pratty Hf about watchin' the mare. ^Tow xAw <h >'ou 
 make of aU that, Jaker 
 
 "Well, you are a mug. It don't ncbd m* nr.Mi^ up. 
 That book's all rounded to. He ^omts Um maie 
 stopped, an' don't want no muddlin' abovl with the 
 JopImj, see? Wasn't thero a row over stoppin' Luere- 
 tialastyearr Wasn't the boy set down for the meetin'P 
 Ton on^t to know; you had to pay through the noee 
 for shuttin' his mouth. But what made the old man 
 talk about the mare gettin' sickr 
 
 Langdon seardied his memory; Just how was tltnt 
 ra^leet started? <a)amnit! yes^of oourse; I told him 
 about the two-year-old harin' the influensa." 
 
 •Wen, Dick, my boy, you're guessed it, though you 
 weren't trying. Crane would like to see the Porter 
 mars oovgfain'." 
 
 •But you can't take a strange horse into their stable, 
 an' him sick," objected the Trainer. 
 
 lUi^t you are, Dick. But you could take the sick- 
 ness there, if you had a boy with the sabe." 
 
 *!. was thinkin' of that," said Langdon, xeflectiTely; 
 "I was wcnderin' if thaf s what the Boss meant" 
 
 ''Sure thing-4hafs his way; ho never wants to 
 
 IWS] 
 
THOBOUOHBBEDS 
 
 Ss w. ^i.~~;l*S' ""^ tat h. Hh. i, w ri« 
 
 boy for fteTb toT a iiJT".*^'" *^ P"*" 
 you to go tt^roSf p»i^ *•" ""!"'**<» •»' "bont to 
 
 Mk me to m^i™ Lt^ ^>o"^' here bv-aight to 
 Mid the Bookmaker in a w n# i. . * *^ *>°y> 
 
 •P«e^tZ.V^'intot^'- ^I-»8*» 
 little rocku«Soi»3^* -."^ «om with . peculi« 
 
 AijpiMd .aiiMl ' •""^"""""ebo* TOggerted thii 
 
 ^»^nwt?£rtt.^«r,'«^r 
 
 L *•• J 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN 
 
 The little mare's well," the boy aniwered, koon- 
 ioiOIy. 
 
 'That* I bad lock for xu, Shandy. WeOl be poorer 
 by the matter of a few thousand if they win the Derby." 
 
 *^ho's we?" questioned Shandy, with sancy direct- 
 
 *'The whole stable. A man has played The Dntch- 
 man to win a hundred thousand, an' he's goin' to give 
 the boys, one or two of theme, fiye hundred if it 
 oomes off." 
 
 The small imp's weak, red-lidded eyes took on a 
 hungry, famished look. ''Whaf re you givin' us— -is 
 that straight goods?" he demanded, doubtingly. 
 
 Langdon didn't answer the question direct; he said: 
 lij man's afraid somebodyll get at The Dutchman. 
 There's a lot of horse sickness about, an' if anyone was 
 to take some of tl^ poison from a sick horse's nose and 
 put it in The Dutchman's nostrils at night, why he'd 
 Txemt start in the Derby, I reckon." 
 
 A look of deep cunning crept into the boy's thin 
 freckled face; bis ^res contracted and blinked ner- 
 Tously. 
 
 ''What th' 'ell's the difference? If the Porter mare 
 starts Bedpath thinks he's got a lead-pipe dnch." 
 
 Tou'd lose your five hundred; that's the difference," 
 retorted Langdon. 
 
 "An' if she doesn't start, an' our horse wimv I get 
 five hundred? Is that dead to rights?" 
 
 'If The Dutchan wins you get the money," rq>lied 
 the Trainer, circumspectly. 'Tou mustn't come to me. 
 Shandy, with no game r' out taldn' the horse sickness 
 £rom our two-year-old an' fixin' Porter's mare, 'cause I 
 can't stand for that, see P' 
 
TBOROUORBBEIM 
 
 wnte that letter forP' "** ^ J<» 
 
 ^j^ »«. tt WM the winu,^ ^ J, had Wto 
 on to" ™ I" ItT *^ *»/•"« he'd pot . p., 
 
 ^,„«? ^ P«^ «°o^»gh." "«™l^, bat 
 
 well, I ain't puttm* van «»«* -« j«_x_ 
 
 Jon hear aut the ^ ^"Si ^J^lT!* »* a 
 q>»ck. If F.»t gel . clL« St; t^^ *~ 
 
 L *46 J 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN 
 
 «Do I get tiuit fin hundred, nue?" 
 
 If LMoetia don't beet The Dutchman, yon get it.'' 
 
 When the boy had gone Fanst came forth from hie 
 hiliag Hke a badger. 
 
 *nniaf I a bad boy — a wicked boy T he said, pulling 
 a idlemn Uee. 'Ton'ie a good man, Langdon, to steer 
 hm in the ftraight an' narrer path. Hell take good 
 ean of The Dutchman for that five hundred. ' 
 
 *Yes, if you don't pay theee kids well ikefU throw 
 yon down ; an' I ain't tiddn' no chances, Faust." 
 
 'The Porter mare might catch the influenea, eh, 
 t3kkr 
 
 If ibe does. 111 let you knew at once, Jake. But I 
 aiift in it. I threateneid to kick that kid out when he 
 hiated at KMnething crodked." 
 
 1 heard you, Laagdon, 111 take my oa& to that. 
 But I muit be off now. You know wh^ to find me if 
 ilHM^a wything doia'." 
 
 [147] 
 
■\>- 
 
 xxvin 
 
 The next d^, intent on penraadinff Porter to aiwint 
 
 ^« Porter-. «cept«oe of the wumu«, ,„ ^ 
 w,rSj"S^ fwethou^t Cnmc flnt tdked it oyer 
 «ort of moral defllemvit in handlijig my tett^ ™™L 
 
 »{^t.^ft,^tx^^ra.^ 
 
 joxdd^fuBe to touch a penny that was not actiiS; 
 
 da^"*(^f ' * 2^"^* ^" »*°«^«>^ due in a few 
 aU emits. If this money, which is rightfuUy yoi 
 family's, could be applied on that, it would makH 
 difference, don*t you think?" * 
 
 "I suppose John must settle it," she said, resiimedlv. 
 perhaps you had better see him: I can>t iterKe' 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT 
 
 way or the other. I haye no head for biuineM/' iha 
 added, apologetically; '^'m not gore that any of us 
 hare except Allis. We jnst seem to drift, drift, drift/' 
 
 Crane stated the facts very plansibly, very sednct- 
 ivdy, to John Porter. Porter almost unreasonably 
 scented charity in Crane's proposal. He believed that 
 the bet was a myth; Crane was trying to present him 
 with this sum as a compensation for having lost Diablo. 
 It wasn't even a loan; it was a gift, pure and simple. 
 His very helplessness, his poverty, made him decline the 
 offer with unnecessary fierceness. If Allis had refused 
 it, if she were strong enough to stand without this 
 dbarity, surely he, a man, battered though he was, could 
 JMSS it by. He had received a hopeful message from 
 Allis as to Lucretia's chances in the Derby; they felt 
 confident of winning. That win would relieve them of 
 all obligations. 
 
 **I can't take it," Porter said to Crane. "Allis is 
 more familiar with the circumstances of the bet — ^if 
 there was one — ^than I. It must just rest with her; 
 she's the man now, you know," he added, plaintively; 
 '^'m but a broken wreck, and what she says goes." 
 
 "But there's a payment on Bingwood falling due in 
 a few days," Crane remonstrated, even as he had to Mrs. 
 Porter. 
 
 Porter coUapsed, fretfully. He could stend out 
 against prospective financial stringency, but actual 
 obligations for which he had no means quite broke 
 down his weakened energy. He had forgotten about 
 this liability, that is, had thought the time of payment 
 more distant. He would be forced to recall the money 
 he had given Dixon to bet on Lucretia for the Derby, 
 to meet this payment to the bank. 
 
^IBOROCOHBIUtDS 
 
 the b«nk to oorar « «?! ? Hn>«wood; pot it in 
 »homtt wZrVl2^.i l«t««c.nrttl.to 
 
 ►ixggfaw for » .,^" r.5d4 f-^rr^ s^ 
 
 •njugh of Z^Slic!. »Z; jf* 1^ *~P it; t% win 
 
 "oney tlMt wL iTsf ?T"? "'•«*» to iMTe the 
 Lncr^ It7^^»?C» l»»d, with him to bet «, 
 «ood to etL ^^Jl^-ii Wdng tte tide rt it. 
 Xing yore « Zi^t^'^ '^ "?»»<« •' »i"- 
 
 the^tiT ^etS^.'S'S't*^ •™^' ■» 
 brooght the win^ J^'^jot^ ?':?^™- He hrf 
 "•"""Id the I.tto3e Im^Z. ? '^' "oeeptance. 
 
 «e of thetir.<,t'-t ^a'd^tttrs r 
 
 Crane drove back to ih^ Jii "®P**" " t™ next day. 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT 
 
 hit wife thought perhaps he wu itill in tba bank. 
 Crane went there in learch of him. He found only 
 Mortimer, who had remained late orer hit aooounts. 
 From the latter Crane leanied that the «— ^iw had 
 dxiTw over to a neighboring town. 
 
 ^t doeant matter/* remarked Crane; **I can leave 
 this mon^ with you. Ifs to meet a payment of three 
 thousand due from John Porter about the middle of 
 June. You can put it in a safe place in the vault till 
 the note falls due, and then transfer it to Porter's 
 
 "111 attend to it, sir,** replied Mortimer, "im at- 
 tach the money tv the note, and put them away 
 together." "" 
 
 On his way to the station Crane met Alan Porter. 
 
 **I suppose you*d like a holiday to see your father's 
 man nm for the Derby, wouldn't you, AlanP' he said. 
 
 1 should very much, sir; but Mr. Lane is set against 
 neing." 
 
 "(Ml, I think he'll let you off that day. m tdl him 
 he may. But, like your mother, I don't i^rove of 
 young men betting— I know what it means." 
 
 He was thinking, with bitterness, <rf his own youthful 
 indiscretions. 
 
 *1f you go, don't bet. You might be tempted, nat- 
 waBy, to back your father's mare Lucretia, but you 
 would stand a very good chance of losing." 
 
 'Don't you thiidc shell win, sir?" Alan asked, em- 
 boldened by his employer's freedom of speech. 
 
 **I do not My horse, The Dutchman, is almost cer- 
 tam to win, my trainer tells me." Then he added, 
 ^wlogetic of his confidential mood, "1 tril you this, lest 
 through loyalty to your own people you should* lose 
 
 [«51] 
 
p 
 
 TR0S0U0HBREO8 
 
 wwjr. He knew quite wbU that Alli^^i!??!^ 
 •ttnd waa only jmd» rmwiki- k i.^^" «wniiliied 
 
 That wa. wSThe wi^^^^Jl^f' di&ultie,. 
 
 « oomiiig from hinTSSi^t^i^''^^^ ^^deiJi 
 of water would tot .J.wfT^ Persittent dropplM 
 •ttamtohis^yS^^^*^*«^t.toiie; he JsSd 
 
 ^e^y^^tatt."* '"^^^ other tha. the looat 
 
 r«5f] 
 
XXDL 
 
 Bmooubaoid by Jockey Bedptth's ezplaiifttioii of his 
 lide on Lncretia, AIUb wu anzioiit tiiat Dixon ihoold 
 take the money her father had let aside for that par- 
 pose and back their mare for the Brooklyn Derby. 
 
 '^e had better wait a day or two/' Dinm had ad- 
 vised, '^intil we see the effect the hard gallop in the 
 Handicap has had on the little mare. She ain't dean- 
 in' np her oats jnst as well as she might; she's a bit 
 off het feed, but if s only natural, though ; a gallop like 
 that takes it out of them a bit." 
 
 It was the day after Crane's visit to Bingwood that 
 Dix(m advised Allis that Lucretia seemed none the 
 worse for her exertion. 
 
 'Terhaps we'd better put the money on right away/' 
 he said. ''She's sure to keep well, and we'U be forced 
 to take a much shorter price race day." 
 
 ''Back the stable," advised Allis, 'then if anything 
 happens Lucretia we can start Lausanne." 
 
 llie Trainer laughed in good-natured derision. "That 
 Kwnldn't do much good; we'd be out of the frying pan 
 into the fire; we'd be just that much more money out 
 lor jfitkey an' startin' fees; he'd oughter been struck 
 out on the first of January to save Mtj dollars, but I 
 guess you all had your troubles about that time an' 
 wasn't thinkin' of declaratitms." 
 
 "It may have been luck; if Lausanne would only try, 
 something tells me he'd win^" cont^ided the girl. 
 
 [868] 
 
 (f: 
 
TdOROUOHBREDS 
 
 •"•'Wed Dizirn i«^!wLi v ^wu«n^ toy • ynxdJ* 
 
 whether we hJl^ JS^^SfT^ 
 won't ttke no rtock inSeChLn^T^ '^' **»V 
 So Dixon made • Ut£^a^ * Iw^P^tt." 
 
 Ten^oSe'ri^r 2^^»g;t?d^*^ CW^ 
 
 be at four, race dT to PMo? *^* **^' "^^ 
 gameto «e the o^JVZ^n^^'Z'^K'^^^ 
 the Trainer a. much as tT^ *^m /"?t?^ '"^'^^ •* 
 it if we'j. both inlTs^rLv^ '^^ "^^^ •^* 
 "■11 tie on, line thine, if i ~„ .^ . j 
 
 odd.- I put my Wt on irithiS-'r!? ,'*''•"• '™»" 
 didn't know tlit joT^' P^ *' *^?' "•' "I 
 •tniight I'd JXn^S A "''" "^ «'»«Ji on the 
 
 -iUr^t^*^' ""^ *-k^» -id Dixon. 
 
 I-S, «"x ^.ptLlw .f»'7*« -^^ in with 
 in The i)»tdmi«'^e.^."^ ^" «»* • "ineh 
 -eoti™,. nhe,„^^te.^^t.^ 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINB 
 
 tkqr got A good Um on The Dntehnun tlmmgh him in 
 ft trkU. But ft thi«*>7ftftr-oIcl nuure that nms as 
 promimnt in Um big Hftndicftp «• Lucretift did, will 
 tftko ft lot of bftfttin*. She's good enough fc/ my 
 mantj." 
 
 ThftnUng him, Dixon foond Fftoit, ftnd ftekei of him 
 ft qnotfttion ftgainit Porter's stftble. 
 
 'Twelve is the best I cftn do/' ftnswered the Cherub. 
 
 Ill tftke fifteen to one." dedftred Dixon. 
 
 ''Cftn't Iftj it; some of the tftlent— men as doesn't 
 mftke no mistake, is takin' twelve to one in my book 
 list as I opoi my mouth." 
 
 1 Wftnt fifteen/' replied Dixon, doggedly. "Surely 
 the owner is entitled to ft shade the beet of it." 
 
 ''Whafs the size of your bet?" queried the Cherub. 
 
 «If you lay me fifteen. 111 take it to a thousand." 
 
 **But you want it ag'in' the stable, ftn' you've two in; 
 with two horses twelve is s long price." 
 
 ''I'm tftkin' it ftgainst the stable just because if s the 
 usual thing to couple it in the bettin'. It's a million 
 to one against Lausanne's starting if Lucretia keens 
 welL" ^ 
 
 Faust gave a little start and searched Dixon's face, 
 furtively. The Trainer's stolid look reassured him, and 
 in a most sudden burst of generosity he said: ''Well, 
 111 stretch a point for you, Dixon. Your boss is up 
 ag'in' a frost good and hard. I'll lay you fifteen 
 thousand to one ag'in' the stable, an' if Lausanne wins 
 youll buy me a nice tie-pin." 
 
 His round, fat sides heaved spasmodically with sup- 
 pressed merriment at the idea of Lausanne in the 
 Broddyn Derby. 
 
 **They must have a pretty good opinion of The Dutch- 
 
 [ 256 ] 
 

 mcMoam waowmm na chart 
 
 (ANSI ord BO TEST CHART No. 2) 
 
 Imi 
 
 I 
 
 Rni: 
 
 1.0 
 
 1.1 
 
 IttiM 12.5 
 
 ltt|£ 
 
 u 
 
 IM 
 
 IM 
 
 ■ 2^ 
 
 1.4 
 
 1.6 
 
 ^ 
 
 /y>R-Ea M^GE he 
 
 tUS Coal Mdin SUntt 
 g ael im ii. Nm York t46M UM 
 (Tit) 4«- 0300 -Phone 
 (7»«) SaB-SMO-foii 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 ing the bet. ''I'm naturaUy .uspicioii of that JZ 
 
 I ve heard about the Sultan of Turkey always drtn';! 
 present to a man before cutting his he^^5' ^ 
 
 "Hie Trainer told AUis what he had done He e«n 
 spoke of hi, distrust at finding Faust laj^^g bn«r ^ 
 
 4?n'g X ;^ SlsTeetX t r^ii^^S^' 
 
 <aZw' ^Z f" j™" '^^P'?'" """"^ ^- de- 
 cisively. If F,„jt „ ,^ ^j^ Langdon, as you sav it 
 
 tneir edit. The Dutehman, can't lose." 
 
 It must be that/' concurred the Trainpr h^^i ,'« - 
 hesuating tone that showed he was'nJt^r'th^ Si'f 
 
 thoS. '""*"' *° """'*'"' '"""'^ AUis, as «. after- 
 ^CJ^' 1°', ^""""e"" Iw™ a chance to-day to show 
 
 goZ^zrhet^ii^is..^''''^ ^ -"^ "»"' ">'- 
 
 "Yes, itll give him a fair trial— ifs a mile an' th™ 
 "f "• |»?d '•»•««, that is, stake ho4s n' fte ^ 
 Jjt "l^f""' "P "" ''™' »»' y»n might have a toTk 
 Tol^i^^'L.t^n'l'r.'^'- ^»»'-'to^-^^ 
 
 ed^'Sf i^y^^'Stit '^''" °' ■»' ^°"- 
 
 [«56] 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE 
 
 "I'm afraid he won't take kindly to you," she said, 
 regretfully; "he's as notional as most of his sire's line. 
 But if he won't try he won't, and the more you fight 
 him the sulkier he'll get. I wish I could ride him 
 myself," she added, playfully; then fearing that she 
 had hurt the boy's feelings by discounting his ability, 
 added, hastily: "I'm afraid I've spoiled Lauzanne; he 
 has taken a liking to me, and I've learned how to make 
 him think he's having his own way when he's really 
 doing just what I want him to do." 
 
 Redpath's admiration for Allis Porter was limited 
 to his admiration for her as a young lady. Being young, 
 and a jockey, he naturally had notions; and a very 
 prominent, all-absorbing notion was that he could 
 manage his mount in a race much better than most 
 boys. Constrained to silent acquiescence by respect for 
 Allis, he assured himself, mentally, that, in the race 
 his experience and readiness of judgment would render 
 him far better service than orders — perhaps prompted 
 by a sentimental regard for Lauzanne. 
 
 The Chestnut was a slow beginner ; that was a trait 
 which even Allis's seductive handling had failed to 
 eradicate. 
 
 When the starter sent Lauzanne off trailing behind 
 the other seven runners in the race that afternoon, Red- 
 path made a faint essay, experimentally, to hold to 
 Allis's orders, by patiently nestling over the Chestnut's 
 strong withers in a vain hope that his mount would 
 speedily seek to overtake the leaders. But evidently 
 Lauzanne had no such intention; he eeemed quite 
 satisfied with things as they were. That the horses 
 galloping so frantically in front interested him slightly 
 was evidenced by his cocked ears; but beyond that he 
 
 [«57] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 Z L^i '" ^'' ^"^ '^' «**^^« hack bringing 
 that gentleman along placidly in the rear. ^^* 
 
 Just as I thought/' muttered the boy; "this gkate'. 
 It 8 the bud he wants/* ^ oruw— 
 
 aU^XTl*^** t' '''" "«^*' '^^ *^»* »^ o'<Je" were 
 aU TOng, the jockey asserted himself. He proceeded 
 to nde Lauzanne most energetically P«>ceeded 
 
 with ^iS' °^t *^' ^'^ °' *^^ ^" '"Bociated 
 wav in^^ i^!f punishment. It had always been tZ 
 
 smallle^ ^V"*'"**^^ ^T^ ^"*' *^« ««^^«»1 hustl^ 
 tSn thf ,• r"? T^^°« ^*h concentric swing; 
 then the impatient admonishment of fierce-iabbin^ 
 spurs; and finally the welt-raising cut of TJ?douf 
 "^rm ^hip. It was not a pleasurable pr^sS 
 ^d at the first shake-up, Lauzanne pictured it^S 
 ^ Ltl Vlr.t'?^ the horses in front flS^ 
 ^iJ^ht t T * ' ^''?^'^ punishment that inter- 
 ested him most; figuratively, he humped his b^k 
 
 against the anticipated onslaught ^^ 
 in^^lnd h/ni the unmistakable sign of his horse sulk- 
 OTnt ^ ""^^^ ^'^ "^"^ '^ *^« i^^^r^ ^ual 
 
 v3'^f in the stand Allis saw, with a cry of dismav 
 ^path's whip-hand go up. That LauzaSe had S' 
 failing SI, lengths behind the others hadTot b^theS 
 I' i"? t' f «h'^t--it ^as his true methc^T Ws w^ 
 
 shrhU'L'^^sa^^gt^^^^^^^ 
 
 flflfth Af o »,!,• • XL °®™®"> Jnst before she saw the 
 
 moaned. Its all over; we are beaten again. Every- 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE 
 
 thing is against ns— everybody is against \xs" she cried, 
 bitterly; "will good fortune never come father's way?" 
 
 By the time the horses had swung into the stretch, 
 and Lauzanne had not in the slightest improved his 
 position, it dawned upon Redpath that his efforts were 
 productive of no good, so he desisted. But his move 
 had cost the Porters whatever chance they might have 
 had. Left to himself, Lauzanne undertook an inves- 
 tigating gallop on his own account. Too much ground 
 had been lost to be made up at that late stage, but he 
 came up the straight in gallant style, wearing down 
 the leaders until he finished close up among the un- 
 placed horses. 
 
 Allis allowed no word of reproach to escape her when 
 Bedpath spoke of Lauzanne's sulky temper. It would 
 do no good — it would be like crying over spilt milk. 
 The boy was to ride Lucretia in the Derby ; he was on 
 good terms with the mare; and to chide him for the 
 ride on Tjauzanne would but destroy his confidence in 
 himself for the other race. 
 
 "•'I'm afraid the Chestnut's a bad actor," Dixon said 
 to Allis, after the race. ''Well never do no good with 
 him. If ha couldn't beat that lot he's not worth his 
 feed bill." 
 
 "He would have won had I been on his back," de- 
 clared the girl, loyally. 
 
 "That's no good, Miss; you can't ride him, you see. 
 We've just got one peg to hang our hat on — ^that's 
 Lucretia." 
 
 Lauzanne's showing in this race was a great disap- 
 pointment to Allis; she had hoped that his confidence 
 in humanity had been restored. Physically he had un- 
 doubtedly improved; his legs had hardened and 
 
 [859] 
 
 m 
 
THOSOCGRBREDS 
 «o^ down. In uct, ^ ^^^ ^^^ ^ 
 
 impossible of Kedosth JhTZ ™"''"- •"'en it wm 
 
 whim else coul? ttey*«k to? ^ "*^ i^ P'*** •■"' 
 but while they w™ „i™,„ '*%"»«''* «periment, 
 
 dnven back ^ hU XKS '-'^' "'"'■' ■» 
 
 ■oi^^T^':^ ::? »5 r S S- '^^• 
 j^. . ... 0* ^.^'iron'Ss*^?;!^' 
 
 -3^pf^:.rs/Si^j?,u--"p.- 
 
 you hT/h "^'' *°"J ~^^''' °^^«««d oSm ioiave 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE 
 
 haunted him like a foolish nightmaie. Had there been 
 foul play? The mare coul£i't have taken a cold — 
 they had been so careful of her ; there had been no rain 
 for ten days; she hadn't got wet. No, it couldn't be 
 cold. Bv.t she undoubtedly had fever. A sickening 
 conviction came that it was the dreaded influenza. 
 
 That morning was the first time she had coughed, 
 so Faust could not have known of her approaching ill- 
 ness, unless he had been the cause of it. 
 
 The Trainer pursued his investigation among the 
 stable lads. When he asked Finn if he had noticed 
 anything unusual about the mare, the boy declared 
 most emphatically that he had not. Then, suddenly 
 remembering an incident he had taken at the time to 
 be of little import, he said: "Two momin's ago when 
 I opened her stall and she poked her head out, I noticed 
 a little scum in her nose ; but I thought it was dust. I 
 wiped it out, and there was nuthin' more come that I 
 could see.** 
 
 **What*8 the row?** asked Mike Gaynor, as he joined 
 Dixon. 
 
 When the details were explained to him Mike de- 
 clared, emphatically, that some one had got at the mare. 
 Taking Dixon to one side, he said : "It's that divil on 
 wheels. Shandy; ye can bet yer sweet loife on that. 
 I've been layin* for that crook ; he cut Diablo's bridle 
 an* f rew th* ould man ; an' he done this job, too." 
 
 **But how could he get at her?" queried the Trainer. 
 "The stable's been locked; an* Finn and Carter was 
 sleepin* in the saddle room.** 
 
 "That divil could go where a sparrer could. How 
 did he git in to cut th* bridle rein — t'rough a manure 
 window no bigger*n your hat. He done that, as I know." 
 
 [«61] 
 
 m 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 wuit to »e them gray ev« wh« »^' ii^ "^ ' 
 
 .0 bl«„e „ the SLitard Sit' ^J;^'ii:;*:f " """"' 
 inff ni,f . «aiu . ^^"*' *°<^ finished up by blurt- 
 
 fa>« seemed to wh^r of victo?J^ L.^,- ^\ '»°™- 
 win. It van nn* »irt.- ™?"7> Jjacretw would surely 
 
 dred timesTfrTiLn J«<^,.^n Poisoned, was a hun- 
 area^nmes worse than stealing the money from their 
 
 litest} 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE 
 
 "I don't rappoee weTl ever be able to prore it,** de- 
 clared Dixon, regretfully; "but that doesn't matter ro 
 much as the mare being done for; we're out of it now 
 good and strong. If we'd known it two days ago we 
 might arsaved the money, but we've burned up a 
 thousand." 
 
 '*We'll have to start Lauzanne," said AUis, taking a 
 brave pull at herself, and speaking with decision. 
 
 **We might send him to the post, but that's all the 
 good it'll do us, I'm feared." 
 
 **I*ve seen him do a great gallop," contended Allis. 
 
 "He did it for you, but he won't do it for nobody 
 else. There ain't no boy ridin' can make him go fast 
 enough for a live funeral. But we'll start him, an' I'll 
 speak to Redpath about takin' the mount." 
 
 Allis was thinking very fast; her head, with its 
 great wealth of black hair, drooped low in heavy medi- 
 tation. 
 
 "Don't engage him just yet, Dixon," she said, looking 
 up suddenly, the shadow of a new resolve in her gray 
 eyes; *T11 talk it over with you when we go back to 
 the house. I'm thinking of something, but I don't 
 want to speak of it just now— let me think it over a 
 
 Dixon was deep in thought, too, as he went back to 
 his own stables. '*We haven't got a million to one 
 chance," he was muttering; **the money's burned up, 
 an the race is dead to the world, as far as we're con- 
 cerned." 
 
 That Allis could evolve any plan to lift them out of 
 tiieir Slough of Despond he felt was quite impossible; 
 but at any rate he got a distinct shock when, a little 
 later, a slight-formed girl, with gray eyes, set large and 
 
 [S68J 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 
 faU in a dark face, declared to him that ahe waa «,imr 
 
 do ^^ m' J'^"'"]^^ Trainer exckimed, >u can't 
 motWsaTr "°''' ^P^^ "^-^^-* -«1<J ^« 
 
 ^nZ*^^^*^''"^^^ *^® ™** ^" '^e" ridden if I'm anv 
 Jndge. and mother won't be interested caough to kn"w 
 whether Lucretia was hitched to a buggy X^^ 
 
 ^^ * m '?^*^® ^''''^^ °«^®' «»o^ a girl-" 
 1 here 11 be no girl in it" and A ilia «^«i • j * 
 
 minute to^. the 4ult of t d«pt!^'t2^"^' " 
 
 It wont work; you never could do it." obiecteil 
 
 D«or,, with despondent conviction, ^at bigM 
 
 JJnr^ give you dead away." * 
 
 The head of hair won't be in evidence- it will h- 
 
 you could ride the horse right eao^ghT^'^i UtTl 
 d»nce on earth yon'd get it out of hi. Brt rive nn 
 the idea, ereiybodyd know you " *^ ' 
 
 hMffl*m objection w», that she/be knoT '^' ' 
 AUia closed the discussion by saying that she wa. 
 
 S.^sd^JSttotrp'^- "*' *'''»'^ ««le otrZ 
 marrs defeat in the Handicap, and made Dixon DromiM 
 
 [*64] 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE 
 
 **He cf r/t take another mount/' *he said, '^became 
 li«'« retained for Lucretia, and we ha , m't declared her 
 out yet." 
 
 ^ 'Tm hopin' we may not hare to," remarked Dixon. 
 Anyway, there's no hurry Rbnnt switchin' the boy onto 
 Lauanne, so weTl settle that when you come badk " 
 
 [S65] 
 
ALurt Titit to Biogwood ma • ayini ons Fili.i 
 derotion t. her f.th., £id been one S Z „ot i,^ 
 
 Z^tlT^ 4^ i»«n..t<5, rather Z.T 
 •med, that Lncretia nu^t poeeibly have a slisht eoM 
 
 .^""iT hr"^'"' '^^ r^ ^^ to ™ £i^ 
 
 aiw. LUce the Trainer, her father had bat a Terv non, 
 
 jruu can I trust any of the boys now-a-davg Tf *»!««»«. 
 no pin-headed, they're crook^ asl cw-W ftJ^! 
 
 hLT' «»•* B^'P'^th didn't ride Lu~«tront iSX 
 Handicap and whether he rides the mare or Lai^ 
 It sewnsaUon^we'll get beat anyway- °' ^^^"*^ 
 ^Another^y wiU have the mount on Lauzanne/' 
 
 ^mat difference wm that make? You can't trust 
 
 ow7s:r^an*:^* '"^ "^^^ "^''^'^ " y- -«^t your 
 "I don't know about that. Alan in the bank ia 
 
 1X66} 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY 
 
 J^^ht, but Alan u t Jockey would be « diffmat 
 
 "Father, you would trn»t me, wouldn't you ?" 
 
 1 } *^T ' ^^^^^' "* **»« *^K^*««t coraw ever was chi*. 
 •led out." 
 
 "Well, you can tnwt the jockey that*! going to ride 
 
 H«rw ^"l" T'^' ^ ^^'^ »^"' «"d heWll right 
 He^i been ndrng Lauzanne some, and the horse likes 
 
 hJt'!,f ^"^f'* objected Porter, the discuwion 
 
 i^HJ^l'^x, ^'^^"^ * P**^"»* °»«x^ "I" Lucretia 
 that bad — is she sick?' 
 
 Bu» If anything happens her we're going to win wiUi 
 
 Duon has backed the stable to win a lot of money. 
 
 ???«"!£ ♦iV°2?^u*^'''"' *° ^»P« *>«* »" *^ little 
 tftings that are bothering you, dad." 
 
 She leaned over and kissed her father in a hopeful, 
 pretty way. The contact of her brave lips drove a mag- 
 netic flow of confidence into the man. "You're a brick, 
 little woman, if ever there was one. Just a tiny bunch of 
 
 vi^'LT^-^^^fV^ And, Allis," he continued, "if 
 you don t wm the Lerby, come and tell me about it your- 
 self, won t you ? You're lure to have some other scheme 
 for bracing me up. I'm just a worthless hulk, sitting 
 here m the house^a cripple whi'.a you fight the battled 
 Ferhaps Providence, as your mother says, will see you 
 through your hard task." ««« juu 
 
 "I won't come and tell you that we've lost, dad: I'D 
 come and tell you that we've won; and then well all have 
 fte biggest kind of a blow-out right here r> the house. 
 WeU have a champagne supper, with cider for cham- 
 
 [«67] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 ^i.^.nf^ ^"*' ^^ ^^°' '^ «W Mike, .nd 
 
 thrflShe^ ' ^'' ^°^°^'~yo^'^e left him ont - added 
 They were both laughing. Jmt & tinv Hf+in — ^* 
 
 -ifi, i ^* go back to my horse.," declared AUi, 
 inth anoaer Idw. "Good-bye, dad-cheer upland S 
 
 W ^* °aSd i^TJT '^ »^ o'""!* valhed f ™" 
 ner Hp», and in its place came one of Ann, donred re- 
 •olve. Allis needed much detennination beforertTh^ 
 
 nood in ^ront of a mirror, arrayed in the purple and 
 
 md he wu for a boy, but h« clothes bore . terribinM- 
 gesbve impression of misflt-thcy hung looK^ ^ 
 M«W!y thanking the fashion which cSned it she 
 tamed the trousers up at the bottom. "Ill Cniy set 
 ?^l?f^f*'* 'S. *'" *°-"8ht,'' she s«d, mttkX 
 
 .«^f r^?r:^hy'S5'iX'': r^;t 
 
 A httle thought giwn to this question of foreiim anSi 
 
 tobled about m her search were much hearier thm h« 
 
 as, muttering, "In for a penny, in for a Bound » .h. «! 
 "J^jnated herself compl^f '«, f „ J JJ?^ *,^. 
 m« wjaeoncemed. Then she examined heSm^S- 
 anjinthegUss. The mirror declared she wasTiSb 
 
 [«68] 
 
I"i 
 
 CHAPTER THIRTY 
 
 counterfeit of her brother; all but the glorious crown of 
 luxunMit hair. Perhaps she had better leave it as it was 
 until she had met with the approval of Dixon— the ter- 
 rible sacrifice might be for nothing. She wavered only 
 for an instant— no half measure would do. "In for a 
 penny, in for a pound." The slightest weakness in car- 
 rying out her bold plan might cause it to fail. 
 
 Tmce she took up a pair of scissors, and each time 
 laid them down again, wondering if it were little short of 
 a madcap freak; then, shrinking from the grinding hiss 
 of the cutting blades, she clipped with feverish haste the 
 hair that had been her pride. It was a difficult task, and 
 but a rough job at best when finished, but the change in 
 her appearance was marvelous; the metamorphosis, so 
 successful, almost drowned the lingering regret. She 
 drew a cap over her shorn head, packed her own gar- 
 ments and a few of her brother's in a large bag, buttoned 
 her newmarket coat tight up to her throat, and once 
 more surveyed herself in the glass. From head to foot 
 she was ready. Ah, the truthful glass betrayed the 
 weak pomt in her armor— the boots. In an instant she 
 had exchanged them for a pair of Alan's. Now she was 
 ready to pass her mother as Allis in her own long cloak, 
 and appear before Dixon without it as a boy. That was 
 her clever little scheme. 
 
 Before going up to her room she had asked that the 
 stableman might be at the door with a buggy when she 
 came down, to take her to the station. When she de- 
 scended he was waiting. 
 
 "I'm taking some clothes back with me, mother," she 
 said. *Let Thomas bring the bag down, please." 
 
 **You're getting dreadfully mannish in your appear- 
 ance, daughter; it's that cap." 
 
 [«69] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 » 
 
 '^ut fop traveling, girl, it seems ont of place. Letm. 
 put a hat on you. I declare I thought it wuAhmwh^ 
 you came into the room." ^*" '^'^ 
 
 J^'^'?*'*^^^*^- I™tbeofftocatchmy 
 
 S^Li^"*?"' "^**»^'5 ^^ ^^ good luct« ttd Z 
 hnmed out and took her seat in the buggy 
 
 [«70] 
 
* ' 
 
 XXXI 
 
 ®**!?J'°?u" ^*?'J ^^"""^ "**^ »*» ^ cottage, op. 
 presMd by the misfortmie that had come to his stable 
 heard a Imock at the door. When he opened it a neatly 
 cbrewed, slim youth stepped into the uncertain light that 
 stretched out reluctantly from a rather unfit lamp on the 
 center table. 
 
 ;^ this Mr. Dixon?" the bo/s voice piped modestly. 
 
 Tes, lad. It IS. WiU you sit down?" 
 
 The boy removed his cap, took the proffered chair, and 
 said somewhat hesitatingly, «I heard you wanted a rid- 
 ing boy. 
 
 WeU, I do, an* I don't I don't know as I said I did. 
 but, —and he scanned the little figure closely,— "if I 
 oouldget a decent lightweight that hadn't the hands of a 
 
 hma^toal. Did you ever do any ridin'-what stable was 
 
 'Tye rode a good deal," answered the little visitor. 
 Ignoring the second half of the question. 
 "Whafs your name?" 
 "Mayne." 
 **Mainwhat?" 
 
 **A1 Mayne," the other replied. 
 «WeU, 8*po8in' you show up at the course paddocks 
 
 t^"^ "^^^K ®"^y' *°* ^^ "^ yo« shape on a 
 T^T 1^'°'' '^^ ^^""^ here-can you bring your father, 
 80 If I like your style we can have things fixed proner?" 
 
 [«71] 
 
 Mi 
 
 i - m 
 
THOBOUOHBREDS 
 
 j»^t ; ««J then the UtUe fellow b«ke into f^ 
 JoTli^^' ""'"''-'en.Igi.ein.Mi.Alli^ 
 
 m niggMted a thought to the Tndner. "The mod 
 «ted hke to hire , help," uid he chuckled iia he od«^ 
 
 U^"^^ •" "^ .w.y-Tm takin' on far 
 
 Oh/* Baid Mrs. Dixon. Then vHh o<k«<»» «^i'x 
 "Good evenin*, young man." ' ^""^ politenesB, 
 
 .iWo*^"" ?*^^ '"'^^ *^~ ^«>ke into a Ismrh 
 
 «0h 1^^^ "^"v"^^- "What's SejokeP?^**^ 
 W^^ Can yon give the lad a bed? He w^Xto bnS 
 
 [«7«] 
 
CHAPTER TUUITY-ONE 
 
 ''Why, Andy, yon know I can't. Thtrv*! only MiM 
 Ami's room." 
 
 "Give her— him that." 
 
 "Are yon crazy, Andy ?" 
 
 ''It's too bad, Mrs. Dixon; I shaVt let yonr hnsband 
 tease yon any more. I am Allis; but I'm glad you 
 didn't know." 
 
 "Oh, Miss Allis, where's your beautiful hair gone? 
 Surely you didn't cut that off just for a joke ?" 
 
 Then she was taken fully into their confidence; and 
 before Allis retired Dixon had been quite won over to the 
 plan of Allis's endeavor. 
 
 In the morning the Trainer asked ihe girl whether she 
 would ride Lauzanne a working gallop to get accustomed 
 to the new or* ar of things, or would she just wait until 
 race day and take her place in the saddle then. 
 
 "I'm afraid Mike'll spot you," he said— "even Carter 
 may." 
 
 "I'll ride to-day," declared Allis; "I musn't take any 
 chances of losing this race through my inexperience. 
 Even Lauzanne will hardly know me, I'm afraid. Mike 
 and Carter needn't see much of me — I can slip away as 
 soon as I've ridden the gallop." 
 
 "Here's a boy's sweater, then," said Dixon; "the 
 ooUar'll half hide your face. I'll get a pair of ridin' 
 breeches an' boots for you by to-morrow. The little 
 mare's in for it sure," he added; "her legs are swellin', 
 an' she's off her feed— just nibbles at a carroi I feel as 
 bad as if it was a child that was sick, she's that gentle. 
 Ghe can't start, an' I'll just tell Redpath that he can 
 take another mount if he gets it. You're still bound to 
 ride the Chestnut?" he asked, by way of assurance. 
 
 "Yea, I am." 
 
 [«78] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 "Well, wem get five pounda off the weight for 'm^^ 
 
 permit for you. What did^i ,iy i^^ J^J^"* • 
 mister?** ''^ ^ ""^ '**°»e '^w, 
 
 steW^^^' """' •"•" '^ » "» "mnbl. tone »f . 
 "Well, Miss— Al, I mean— vou ciin p.i^ t 
 
 ntes, Md then made her wai^t ,„ n- " f '" °^- 
 
 How did the horse like it?** Dixon asked of *),« ^^ 
 when he returned home *® *^^ 
 
 "WeU I Ihfnir >,!? "«'''-'>e'U keep my secret" 
 
 ^ a strong workout. B^, S^pnT^l^^^ 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE 
 
 youVe got to do in the race. To-morrow mornin' you 
 had better canter him just slow around once, an* then 
 send him a full mile-an'-a-quarter as though there 
 was money hung up for it. I'll catch his time, an' we'll 
 get wise to what he can do." 
 
 This programme was carried out; and as Dixon looked 
 thrice at his watch after the gallop to make sure that he 
 was not mistaken in the time, 2 :11, he began to wonder 
 if, irfter all, the girl was not nearly right in her pro- 
 phetic hope that the despised Lauzanne would win the 
 Brooklyn Derby. 
 
 "He can move; he surprised me," the Trainer said to 
 Allis as she dismounted. "He's not blown, either; he's 
 as fresh as a daisy. Gad 1 we'll do those blackguards up 
 yet, I believe." 
 
 The gallop had attracted Mike's attention also. As 
 Allis moved away he called after her, "I say, b'y, hould 
 on a minute. What's yer name, ennyway ?" 
 
 **A1," answered the small voice. 
 
 ''Well, by me faith, ye didn't put up no bad roide. Ye 
 handled that horse foine. Don't run away, lad," he 
 added, hurrying after the retreating Allis. 
 
 Before she could escape him, he had her by the arm, 
 and turned about face to face. Even then he didn't recog- 
 nize her, for Allis had taken a most subtle precaution in 
 her make-up. The delicate olive of her cheeks was hid- 
 den under a more than liberal allowance of good agricul- 
 tural cosmetique. It had been well rubbed in, too, made 
 of a plastic adherence by the addition of mucilage. 
 
 "Lord, what a doirty face !" exclaimed Mike. "But ye 
 kin ride, b'y; so dirt don't count; clean ridin's the 
 thing." 
 
 If Allis hadn't laughed in his face, being full of the 
 
 [«76] 
 
 .1, ii'i 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 htppinej of hope, Mike would not hare n«wml«i^ i^ 
 -^en th«, he didn't lut it off qtSte^hr^"^ ^ 
 "Alan Porter r he Mined "IlIJ^V . , 
 
 wo^^^ J::'' B^l^^ate jij-^ Hun?. ^ 
 reide like that. If. wTT^ftir.! "¥**'* ""^^ 
 
 faa«, coold «A6e .fore ^; „one beS^^I^ S 
 can Bit a horse foiner nor anv bV » ,•«,»* T* «Jm Aiua 
 But thia beats me t'nmL «l i ^ *? * * *op-notcher. 
 Btand/Mie^n^ued^ AlS 'V* ^T^'^' ^ ^°^«^ 
 
 ^^y won't, nayther-what did% sa^f nT'^ 
 "Al Mijrne." 
 
 need, 'em bo"-to ^' J tS™ ?? »' "» '««»-«>' I 
 
 way r*b.„'"th.t ^tTt VZr^-^n ^I "^ 
 
 J^Alh. moved .way, ICk. rtood w«dri»g the nert 
 
 J^'t^t'Ti.r;,'!-^,.*: ^; -U. 
 
 rat no ice wif her. TbevT^ti^i^^V *" ' 
 •n' thaf. aU there i, to tt a,* w.^ "l ^™««* 
 the trick to a big ^d oi ,^'S^^?*};*?,*™ 
 
 ^ck-.^Omng.te^.ner'I^P^to^r.^ 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE 
 
 M he had started. "Mother a' Momi I Irat I beliere if i 
 the gnrl; thafi why the Chestnut galloped as if he had 
 her on his back. JasnsI he had. Ph-e-e-w-w I" he 
 whistled, a look of intense admiration sweeping over his 
 leather^like face, '^of fnmbs! if that isn't pluck. 
 There isn't a soul but meselfll git ontill it» an' she all 
 bat fooled me." 
 
 [trr] 
 
xxxn 
 
 •bout rain C'' " "'"' "^•y- ''« '"1 1"* 
 
 ^mti^ly L«,ga™ elo«d one eye «,d winked t, 
 
 urgea a foot of the journey, and finishing strong^ 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO 
 
 WM certainly almoit good enough to warrant hii win> 
 ning. 
 
 "nui information had been brought to Langdon, but 
 he alto had obienred the gallop. And the aame boy waa 
 to ride Lanzanne in the race, he understood, for Bedpath 
 had been released, and waa looking for another mount. 
 It wasn't in the natural order of things that one small 
 stable would have in it two horses good enough to win 
 the Derby, especially when one of them was a cast-off; 
 but there was the gallop; time, like figures, didn't lie, 
 not often; and as he thought of it Lungdon admitted 
 that he had never seen such an improvement in a horse 
 as had been made in Lauzanne. Shandy had told him 
 that it was Miss Porter's doing, that she had cured him 
 of his sulky moods; the gallop Langdon had witnessed 
 seemed to bear out the truth of this. What was he to 
 do? They couldn't repeat the trick they had played on 
 Lucretia. The Dutchman might win; he had worked 
 the full Derby distance, a mile and a half, in 2 :45, nearly 
 all out at the finish. Lausanne's gallop was only a mile 
 and a quarter; he might not be able to stay the addi- 
 tional quarter. But there was ten thousand dollars at 
 stake— for Langdon. He sought to discover the identity 
 of Lauzanne's rider; but nobody knew him— Dixon had 
 picked him up somewhere. Perhaps he could be got at ; 
 that would simplify matters greatly. 
 
 The morning after her fast work on Lauzanne, Allis, 
 draped aa she was into the personification of Al Mayne, 
 arrived at the course before their horses. As she waa 
 leaning over the paddock rail waiting for Lauzanne to 
 come, Langdon, who had evidently determined upon a 
 course of action, sauntered up carelessly to the girl and 
 commenced to talk. After a free preliminary observa- 
 
 [«79] 
 
 'M 
 
 I 
 
 t », I 
 
THOBOCOHBBEDS 
 
 Th» nitU Bgan nodded itt Iwtd. 
 
 like to dgn ^ X IIJ^ 7i,!?Sf- "'*'*». I'd 
 
 ttaT*""^' ^ "» • "*•? »<* --wriiW hi. obee^i. 
 
 «nll!^'*r'"l? "*' "" ""»* 'or him ,fte, thie MO. » 
 •»2^ the other, ,„ite tmOluay enoTh. tat^ 
 
 S; • '^*'' *• '^"' «» "fnt 5 the .^ 
 no good to • tof tC ^!.r^ """"• """t •'"'t 
 
 ?•». »• won't ttS »tSdi>^ S^^^'n;tSi * 'J'* 
 
 thouMnd if we won Ihi. nu» TJiSni ^S?^ "^ * 
 
 Xhii,*rp. "*" "^ ""^ "»»'• good light hoyio 
 
 AIll.did«* ^^jUpIomticiUlygiringh., 
 
CHAPTBB THIRTY-TWO 
 
 M AI MajiM to nndentond that if ihe thxmr the nee <m 
 lAQMime, ehe would get a place in thtb it^hle at a 
 letainer of a thoueand dollan. 
 
 'We can afford it if we win the race," he oontinned, 
 "for we itand a big stake. Come and we me any time 
 jon like to talk thii orer." ^ 
 
 After he had gone, juit at Allii wu leaTing the rail, 
 •he WM again acootted ; this time by Shandy. She trem- 
 bled an instant, fearing that the small red-lidded ferret 
 ^yes wonld disco?er her identity. But the boy was too 
 intent on trying to secnre his ill-earned flre hundred dol- 
 lars to think of anything else. 
 
 '*Good momin', boy/' he said, cheerily. "I used to be 
 in Dixcm's stable. Ifs hell; and he's a swipe. I see my 
 bwistdldn'toyouJMtnow. Did he put you - xt a good 
 
 Allis nodded her head, knowingly. 
 
 "He's all right. Bo's the other one— the ^juy as hia 
 got the mun; he's got a bank full of ii I'm on to him: 
 his name's Crane—" 
 
 Allis started. 
 
 "You don't hiow him," continued the imp; 'Tie's too 
 slick to go messin' about. But if the old man promised 
 you anything, see, God blast me, you'll git it. Not like 
 wat other skin-flint hole where you don't git notfain'. 
 I stand in five hundred if our horse wins the Derby " 
 
 1)0 you ride him P' asked Al Mayne. 
 
 "Bide lothin'. I don't have to. I've did my job al- 
 ready." •' ' 
 
 '?. ?**^'* ^^®^« t^^y*" give you five hundred for 
 ^!!r^ ' * '"^ ^^"' ^®^^*ii»gly» knowing that the boy's 
 obstinate nature, if he were crossed, would probably drive 
 him into further explanation. 
 
 [«81] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 Allis nodded. 
 
 .n'L^r^ "l. ^** was the use of stoppin' the mare 
 •n let the Chestnut spoil the job r "»einare 
 
 All? *^*7^* y°« 8«t the five hundred for?" asked 
 
 Biok^^^J r» ^'^^ ?"', '"' * ^* «^'? B'^t -he's 
 now ^> im- ^ ^? ^^ ^^ "^^ of the Chestnut 
 
 m7it?l^>tT ^'' ' ^^°^ ^"* ^' °^y «^«' God W 
 As he spoke Shandy looked hastily about to see that 
 no one jys listening, then he continu^ : «If you rive me 
 the double CTOBB an' peach, I'U split yer head own^' ffi! 
 smaUey^bUzed with venomous fu,^. ^i^dHwon? 
 
 ChiZf^^ '\^^ me God 1 1 wm, if you don't rideSe 
 S?v flri- ^^ V^^ ^°'^>*' ^' '^ded, bolt^ Bud! 
 homJ. ^'"^ ^"^ "^*"'^ *^« P~idock with Si 
 
 With the horses also came Mike Gavnor wi,ii* ♦!. • 
 
 f,w^I.7Tr ^"^ detemmied to keep from the irirl the 
 fact that he had penetrated her diiVniee W«h „«J»! 
 
 edg might make her uncomfortable. * 
 
 come t^ *^«/-V-night divil Shandy talkin' to ye ae I 
 come in. Whatnewmischief ishe uptonow^ 
 
 [«82] 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO 
 
 **He wants me to pull Lanzanne/' 
 "He ain't got no gaU, has he ? That come from head- 
 qnarters; it*s Langdon put him up to that.*' 
 '*He was talkin' to me, too." 
 
 "I fought he would be. But he didn't know ye. Miss 
 Allis— ** J » » 
 
 Heavens! It was out. Mike's sun-tanned face turned 
 brick-red; he could have bitten off his unruly Irish 
 tongue. The girl stared at him helplessly, her cheeks, 
 that were scarlet, tingling under the hot rush of blood. 
 
 ^There ye are, an' believe me, I didn't mean it. I was 
 goin* to keep me mouth shut, but I never could do that" 
 
 **You knew then, yesterday?** 
 
 "Indade I didn't, an' thafs a good sign to ye nobody*ll 
 know. But whin I fought wit* meself I knowed that 
 AhM couldn't ride Lauzanne the way ye did; an' ye 
 didn't deny ye was him, an* if ye wasn't him ye must be 
 yerself, seeP' which more or less lucid explanation 
 seemed to relieve Mike's mind mightily. **I think ye*re 
 jes doin* roight. Miss— -Al, I mean; I must get used to 
 that name ; 8*help me, I believe ye'U win on the Chestnut 
 — ^that gallop was good enough." 
 
 *T)o you think I can do it, Mike, among all those 
 jockeys?** 
 
 "Sure thing, ye can. A— Al, me b*y ; he won*t need no 
 ridin' in yer hands; all ye*ll have to do is sit still an* 
 keep him straight. He*ll win the race in the stretch, an* 
 there won*t be many there to bothe^— they*ll all be beat 
 off. Now, it's a good thing that I do know about 
 this, for ril just kape close to ye an* kape any wan 
 thafs likely to spot ye away, if I have to knock him 
 down.** 
 
 Mike had worked himself up to a fine frenzy of pro- 
 
 [2881 
 
 1 I 
 
r 
 
 THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 jecfcwi endeavor; he cast about for further aervioei hm 
 
 com render his admired miatress. ^ ^ 
 
 An ye Imow Carson the starter; he^s jes the loveH«it 
 
 JS^TTt' W h^"'* • ''^ ? earth W2/^ !::f ^* 
 oest ay It from hun on a start, not if they was to tdZ 
 ^,f>^?,«°o?«h to weigh a horse down^ ^Bu^ruTe? 
 tip to the wink that ye'r a gurl, and-- ^^ ^ " J*'' 
 
 eye^gr'* ''^ ^'" "^^ Do you xnean to n. 
 
 0»^J~^ ^'l® °' ?«^' ioyousneiw that had crept into 
 Gaynor's sun-tanned face yanished; his jaw^Z^ 
 
 Th» the gill told Mike aU that Shandy «id ..aMdon 
 iTl^fc' I* ?'y~''^«^"^« opinion that toSZ 
 
 «^yif8hewon. But in the excitement oyTS^ 
 people would not haye time to deyote Z \ 1^ 
 
 w«l 'I *^''* r°^^ * °«*^1 ^'O'^dition wh^ Z^ 
 were nding perhaps several races in one aftem^^ tS 
 
 [«84] 
 
ii ■ i 
 
 pftll 
 
 Do ymi think I can do it, Mike^ among all thone 
 
 Jockeys ? 
 
 :5^Sr?S3=B'-Tr-- 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO 
 
 jook^ cap with its big peak well pnlled down OT«r her 
 head would add materially to her diBgoiie. Mike would 
 fetch and carry for her, bo that she would be in eyidenoe 
 for very few minutes at most. Dixon even, opposed to 
 the idea as he had been at first, now assured her quite 
 confidently that nobody would make her out. 
 
 ''If s the horses they look at/' he said, ''and the colors. 
 An apprentice boy doesn't cut much ice, I can tell you. 
 WLj, I've been racin' for years," he went on with the 
 intent of giving her confidence, "an' many a time I see 
 a boy up on a horse that must have rode on the tracks 
 over a hundred times, an' I can't name him to save my 
 neck." 
 
 At any rate there was nothing more to do until she 
 made the great endeavor, until she went to the track at 
 the time set for the Brooklyn Derby, dressed in the blue 
 jacket with the white stars of her father's racing colors; 
 thftt was the plan adopted. A buggy, with Mike driving, 
 would take her straight to the paddock quite in time for 
 the race. 
 
 [«85] 
 
xxxm 
 
 M«tJ!^,S*^^i®^.*^ T°^y '°' p«'*^''« "^ote with 
 
 Mortimer the latter took the three one-thousand^oUar 
 MJ8, pinned thorn to the note, placed them in a cigar 
 box and put the box away carefully in the bank safefto 
 remain there until the 14th of June, when it becme 
 Ajin Porter ^*''*^«' mentioned this matter to 
 
 «*??^! ^ Y^^, ^ ^^ ^^«' «^"t other affairs 
 of the bank touched upon the subject of Porter's obli- 
 gation, statmg that he had left tha money with Mr. 
 MOTtimer to meet the note when it matured 
 
 Ai;«! tl^^TJf ^"^y^ ^^ 12*^ 0' *e month, 
 A^ asked his day's eaye and got it. The cashier more 
 readily granted Alan's request, as Crane had intimated 
 in his letter that it would please him if the lad were 
 to have a holiday. 
 
 Alan went up to New York that evening. Earlier in 
 ;w !1^ ^e somewhat hesitatingly confided to Mortimer 
 that he had backed Lucretia when she was weU and 
 looked to have a good chance to win her race; now she 
 was scratched, and his money was lost. Bearing in 
 mmd what Crane had said about The Dutchman's 
 chances of winning, even with Lucretia in the race, he 
 felt now that it appeared almost Uke a certainty for 
 Cranes horse. If he could have a bet on The Dutch- 
 man he would surely recoup his losses. Alan expla-ned 
 all these racing matters very minutely and with great 
 
 [«86] 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREB 
 
 Mrnestness to Mortimer, for the latter was quite tm- 
 familiar with the science of race gambling. Having 
 stated his predicament and hoped-for relief, as an ex- 
 cuse for so doing, he wound up by asking his companion 
 for a loan of two hundred doUars. 
 
 Mortimer had little less horror of betting and its evil 
 influence than Mrs. Porter, but under the circura- 
 stances he would perhaps have complied with the boy's 
 request had he been provided with suflBcient funds. As 
 it was, he said: "I don*t like the idea of lending you 
 money to bet with, Alan; your mother wouldn't thank 
 me for doing so; besides, if you lost it you'd feel un- 
 comfortable owing me the money. At any rate, I 
 haven't got it. I couldn't lend you two hundred, or 
 half of it. I suppose I haven't got a hundred to my 
 credit." 
 
 "Oh, never mind then," answered Alan, angrily, 
 stiffening up, because of Mortimer's lecture. 
 
 **I11 lend you what I've got." 
 
 "I don't want it. I can get it some other place." 
 
 'Tou'd better take—" 
 
 "Take nothing— I don't want it." 
 
 **Very well, I'm sorry I can't oblige you. But take 
 my advice and don't bet at all; itil only get you into 
 trouble." 
 
 "Thanks; I don't need your advice. I was a fool to 
 ask you for the money." 
 
 "I say, Alan," began Mortimer, in a coaxing tone. 
 
 'Tlease don't *Alan' me any more. I can get along 
 without your money and without your friendship; I 
 don't want either." 
 
 Mortimer remained silent. What was the use of 
 angering the boy further? He would come to see that 
 
 [«87] 
 
 f 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 ]J*di* or°t?°* ^* » fiM PMt, and would be dl light ia 
 
 diiUnce of manner, speaking to Mortkner only once^ 
 aconsteained request for a bunch of keys in the latter'i 
 P««e«iion which unlocked «,me privat/ drawers L tte 
 
 *J^l ^'i morning it suddenly occurred to Mortimer 
 
 tL n^t'^f " °° V^ ^"^ *^* day-^ther thl^^SS^ 
 
 the next, he wasn't sure. The easiest way to settle the 
 
 qu^tion was to look at the date on the note!^ ^ 
 
 He stepped into the vault, took out the litfle dgar 
 
 sudden jshock of horror ran through his fJLn^^SnS 
 
 dojS: nlTft''"^' *""' "^" ^^^ *"^ one-thousand. 
 
 The discovery paralyzed him for an instant. He 
 
 Then he looked at the note; it matured the next d^^ 
 AQ the money had been in the box the momingltefow 
 
 rjjf ^«^ that it was in the vault. 
 
 S^nrTl.*^^^^ """"^"^r- ^"'^ ^'atuated with 
 m^^^n -r ""? T« * ^"«^ «^ °^«' The DutcS 
 m^;y "^ *° ^"°^ ''"°» ^' had taken the 
 
 Tl ^yity of the situation calmed Mortimer and 
 h^mma worked with a cool method that suSn^ 
 
 ^ll ."/' ^^^. " "^*- The boy, inSnsisten% 
 !«H^**';^ ^*'°°^ *hat the money was his fathert 
 !°*^^fha* he was only borrowing faiily prorert^ No 
 doubt he had felt sure of winning, and L^tT^uld ^ 
 
 [288] 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE 
 
 bMk in time to replace the thonnnd before it wu needed. 
 Thit sophistical reasoning had, without donbt, tempted 
 the lad to commit this — this — Mortimer felt a reluc- 
 tance to bestow the proper name upon Alan's act, but 
 nndoubtedly it was stealing. 
 
 And if the boy lost the money, what would happen? 
 He couldn't repay it; the shortage would be discov- 
 ered and Allis's brother would be ruined, branded as a 
 thief. 
 
 Mortimer would willingly put the money back him- 
 self for Allis's sake; but he hadn't it. What was he 
 to do? If he could find Alan and force him to give up 
 the stolen money he could yet save the boy. But Alan 
 had gone to Gravescnd. 
 
 Like an inspiration the thought came to Mortimer 
 that he must go after him and get the money before it 
 was lost. He shoved the box back in its place, and came 
 out into the office. 
 
 It was half past ten by the clock. Luckily the 
 cashier had not come yet. Mortimer's mind worked 
 rapidly. He must make some excuse and get away; any- 
 thing; he must even lie; if he saved the boy it would be 
 justifiable. Why did not the cashier come, now that he 
 was ready for him ? Each minute seemed an age, with 
 the honor of AUis's brother hanging in the bdance. 
 He would need money. He drew a check for a hundred 
 dollars. A hasty inspection showed that he still had a 
 t? fie more than this amount to his credit. Why he 
 took a hundred he hardly knew; fate 8eeme<'l writing 
 the check. He had barely finished when the cashier 
 appeared. At once Mortimer spoke to him. 
 
 "I want leave of absence to-day, sir," he said, speak- 
 ing hurriedly. 
 
 [289] 
 
 ill 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 Tlie ouhier frowiied in Mtoniihrnent. "ImpoMihkf 
 li!^ ?^ort-J««ded with young Porter myT^^ 
 
 'llv moS«!t ^ ^ morning," pleaded Mortinuir. 
 My mother U very ill. Vre opened up, and Mr. Caie 
 
 ^ i?*rPl,^ ° •"'*' ^' y'*"'" ^«* °»« «o. I wouldn't 
 ••k it, but It', a matter of almoit life aSd death." He 
 had nearly said of honor. 
 
 Unwill^ly the cashier conaented. It probably meant 
 txtoi work forhim ; he would certainly WiS SS°a 
 
 is *w*^ ""^ ""*^"- ^«i» '^w °ot * buay bank' 
 llt^^^^ "^ u°^* likely to be a very pre«iig ^ 
 
 who^ortL^^w^^' "^•"^°' ^'''^^^'' ^^ »ot 
 
 brothe^ from himadf. At laat he was free. Heal- 
 most ran to the station. 
 
 seeing Mortimer's rapid pace, muttered : "I gness the 
 poor man's mother is pretty bad; I'm glad Ilet him 
 go. He's a good son to that mother of his." 
 
 At eleven o'clock Mortimer got a train for New York 
 I>unng the wait at the station he had paced up and 
 down the platform with nervous stride. Ad^n times 
 he I«K>ked at his watch-would he be too late? He hi3 
 no Idea how ong it would take to reach Oravesend! 
 he knew nothmg of the race track's location. As the 
 ^ whirled him through Emerson, where his mother 
 hved, he could see the little drab cottage, and wondered 
 pathetically what the good woman would say iflhe 
 
 £ wast N^wTor^!^ *' * ^ ""^- ^* *^«^- 
 
 [«90] 
 
XXXIV 
 
 MoBTiMiR found that he could take an "L" train to 
 the Bridge, and tranifer there to another taking him 
 direct to the coune. At the Bridge he wai thmit into 
 a motley crowd, eager, expectant, full of joyous antici- 
 pation of auured good luck. He waa but a tiny unit of 
 this many-Toiced throng; he drifted a ipeck on tho 
 boaom of the flood that poured into the waiting race 
 train. He wai toMed into a seat by the swirling tide, 
 and as the train moved he looked at his fellow-pas- 
 sengers. There was a pleasant air of opulence all about 
 him. Gok' chains of fair prominence, diamonds of 
 lustrous hu , decorated the always rotund figures. He 
 M to wondering why the men were all of a gross 
 physique; why did the ladies wear dresses of such 
 interminable variety of color; from whence came the 
 money for this plethora of rich apparel? 
 
 The race literature that had come Mortimer's way 
 had generally dealt with the unfortunate part of racing. 
 Somehow he had got the impression that everybody 
 lost money at it. He ^as sure Alan Porter had, also 
 the father. 
 
 True, on the train were some bearing undeniable 
 evidences of poverty ; but not many. One man of this 
 latter unfortunate aspect sat next him. His whole ap- 
 pearance was suggestive of the shady side of life. With 
 the industry of a student he pored over a disheveled 
 sporting paper for half an hour, then throwing it 
 
 C«91] 
 
TRORuUOHBREDS 
 
 «af« tlM iMt ha oMt t fortiTf look at hit nebrhhor 
 BnT^ir.^ J*^*" Mortimer «».wwed, thro^fa ignof. 
 
 2?isf tt ^tc!^*r"*^ *^,'^ *^^"S: 
 
 X an It, aeclired the muk of ud ^mimm^. mia 
 inejn^ong odd. if you're n^,Sitll^^ ^ 
 
 the ^'JT^K^ '•^^ *« • briS-Ohr for 
 ^her nun might u weU h.Te be«i .peddng 
 
 ^^^ jou doped 'em out for de Derby r wked the 
 tJ^STJl!!!^^ ^ ^^' Whaterer it WM it WM 
 
 the^f^JLr? ^"^u ™i7' *^ °^^» t«>«Med by 
 «1*5*?^ ^"^t®' **^* threatened AWe familV 
 WMted to draw within itself and ponder deeply^ a 
 prop^ coMje of action; «, he .^e^T^y"^ 
 
 BntT?h*^^^?''°^'*^«»- I never bet S^rS^ 
 rL *^**^ y®" '®' yow kind offer." * 
 
 ^^.^"^^ '*!* '^*«^ •* »>im in blank amue. 
 m^ ttjm rt wrinUed in a mirthful UughTdeST 
 
 L J!°L**^T y**" dough-you look it Savi. 
 djt rtraight good^^d you neyi have a lit iry;i!; 
 
 "Never did." 
 beBt^of It, dough. Wish rd never buied agS* i 
 
CHAPTER THIRTy-FOim 
 
 ''Wlijr don't joa stop it now, th«nr 
 
 **BtLj, pud, do 70a drinkr 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Smoker 
 
 "No." 
 
 A bopeliM «ir of utter defe«t eune into the thin, 
 •htrp face. Ite owner had been leerching for a limile. 
 He wanted to point a moral and he couldn't find it. 
 The young man at hit elbow waa too immaculate. Ho 
 tried to explain: "Badn'a like any other locoed t'ing^ 
 iff like tobacco, or drink, or itealin' money out of a 
 bank—" 
 
 Mortimer shivered. He had felt a moral luperiority 
 in denying the implied bad habitt. 
 
 "If I like any of 'em," continued the ragged 
 philoMpher; ''a guy starta simply as a kid, an' he gets 
 de f row-down. He takes a bracer at himself, and 
 swears heTl give it de go-by, but he can't— not on your 
 life." 
 
 Mortimer had read much about confideucc men, and 
 half expected that his self-imposed acquaintance would 
 try to borrow money, but he was disillusionized prea- 
 ratly. 
 
 "But de ring ain't broke Ole Bill yet. I'll clean up 
 a t'ousand to-day— say, I like your mug; you ain't no 
 stiff, or I miss my guess, an' 111 put you next a good 
 t'ing, damme if I don't, an' you don't need to divvy 
 up, neither. Dere's a chestnut runnin' in de Derby 
 what dey call Larcen, an' I'm goin' to plank down a 
 hun'red chicks on him." 
 
 He detected a look of incredulous unbelief in Mor- 
 timer's face, evidently, for he added, **You fink I 
 ain't got no dough, eh?" He dug down into the folds 
 
 [298] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 of hii somewhat voluminoug ''pants" and drew forth a 
 fair-sized roU. "See? That wad goes to LaroeJ 
 straight. I see him do a gaUop good enough for my 
 stuff J but dey got a stable-boy on him, an* daf s why 
 he U be ten to one. But dat don't cut no ice wif me. 
 Heqi be out for de goods; ifs a gal owns him, an' 
 dere II be nut'm' doin'. Gal's name's Porter " 
 
 Again Mortimer started. What a little world it was. 
 to be sure I Even here on the ferry boat, crowded with 
 men of unchristian aspect, he heard the name of the 
 
 '''*«^ )f ^?^^' *°^ '^'^^^^^^ symboUcal of honesty, 
 mat s the name of this-this horse?" he asked. 
 VLarcen." 
 
 "Do you mean Lauzanne?" 
 
 "Yes, da^s it. I jes' heered it, an' I fought it was 
 Larcen.' You've got it straight, stranger. Say, are 
 you wisetoanyfin'?" o»j^, are 
 
 "Not about the horse; but I know the people-the 
 young lady; and they'U win if they can-tS^'s sure." 
 Dere won t be many dead 'uns in de Derby. First 
 money's good enough fer most of de owners. First 
 horse, I see him gallop like a good 'un. An' I'm a 
 piker; I hke a bit of odds fer my stuff." 
 
 Mortimer saw the other occupants of the train mov- 
 mg toward the front end. 
 
 "I guess we're dere," said his companion; "perhaps 
 1 11 see you on de course. If you make a break toniaj" 
 play Larcen; he'U win. Say, I didn't catch yoiS 
 nanne. ' 
 
 "Mortimer." 
 I»t3'"' ^^ *^ °^ yourself, Mr. Morton. See you 
 
 [«94] 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR 
 
 In his ignorance of a race meet Mortimer had felt 
 sure he would be able to find ALn Porter without 
 trouble. The true difficulty of da quest sovv- dawned 
 npon him. Wedged into the pi hing, shovi i^, hurry- 
 ing crowd, in three minutes ho bad completely lost 
 himself. A dozen times he rearranged his bearings, 
 taking a certain flight of steps leading up to the grand 
 Btand as the base of his peregrinations; a dozen times 
 he returned to this point, having accomplished nothing 
 but complete bewilderment. 
 
 He asked questions, but the men he addressed were 
 too busy to bother with him; some did not hear, others 
 stared at him in distrust, and many tendered flip- 
 pant remarks, such as "Ask a policeman;" "You'll find 
 him in the bar;" "He's gone to Europe." 
 
 Even Mortimer's unpracticed mind realized speedily 
 that it would be nothing short of a miracle if he were 
 to find anyone in all those impatient thousands who 
 even knew the person he was seeking. One young man 
 he spoke to declared that he knew Alan Porter quite 
 well; he was a great friend of his; he'd flnd him in a 
 minute. This obliging stranger's quest led them into 
 the long race track bar room, which somehow or other 
 suggested to Mortimer a cattle shambles. 
 
 Behind the bar young men in white coats, even some 
 m their shirt sleeves, were setting forth on its top, with 
 feverish haste, clinking glasses that foamed and fretted 
 much like the thirsty souls who called vociferously for 
 liquid refreshment. Everybody seemed on fire— burnt 
 np by the thirst of a consuming fever, the fever of 
 speculation. 
 
 Mortimer's new friend suggested that they indulgt 
 in beer while waiting for the sought one's appearance, 
 
 [296] 
 
 h 
 
 ».-f 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 and wajdng confidential he assured his quany that he 
 
 lose-^The trainer was a bosom friend of his: a sort of 
 hybnd brother in friendship. He himself wm no 
 tapster, he was an owner; he even went the length of 
 
 S^^dTng"''* ^^"^" '^^' -« -^* -3-- o' 
 
 slightest; they only wasted his precious time. If he 
 
 t\X heleU te^^-*^' ^"^ *'^ ^^^^^^ ^^^ ^^^ 
 
 "I must find my friend " he said, cutting the gar- 
 
 rolouB man short. "Excuse me, I'll go and look for 
 
 But the other was insistent; ferret-like, he had un- 
 earthed good meat-a rare green one-wid he felt in- 
 disposed to let his prey escape. His insistence matured 
 mto insolence as Mortimer spoke somewhat sharply to 
 him Ignorant of racing as the latter was, he was 
 hardly a man to take liberties with once he r;co^ 
 the mfnngement The enormity of his missioHod 
 the possibility that it might be frustrated by his 
 undesirable tormentor, made him savage. Rai^ to 
 
 Titfr. ^^ ",r r '^"^"^ «^ *^« touf who hdd wm 
 
 m leash he suddenly stretched out a strong hand, and 
 
 ^t that laid him on his back. Mortimer held him 
 ttere, squirming for a fuU minute, while men gathered 
 80 close that the air became stifling 
 
 «>,n^?r°*^^* ^'"^^ ^*.°^ ''^^ ^^'^ «° Mortimer's 
 shoulder and a gruff policeman's voice asked, ''What* ■ 
 the matter here?" 
 
 "Nothing much,'* Mortimer replied, releasing hii 
 
 [ 896 ] 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR 
 
 hold and Btraightening up; "this blackguard wanted 
 me to bet on some horse, and when I refused, insulted 
 me; thafs all/* 
 
 l^e other man had risen, his face purple from the 
 twist at his throat. The officer looked at him 
 
 "At it again, Mr. Bunco. I'll take care of him," he 
 continued, turning to Mortimer. "He's a tout. Out you 
 p,*Mhi8 to the other man. Then, tickled in the ribs 
 by the end of the policeman's baton, the tout was driven 
 from the enclosure; the spectators merged into a larger 
 crowd, and Mortimer was left once more to pursue his 
 fruitless search. 
 
 As he emerged into the open of the lawn he saw a 
 gentleman standing somewhat listlessly, self-absorbed 
 as though he were not a party to the incessant turmoil 
 of tne others, who were as men mad. 
 
 With a faith bom of limited experience, Mortimer 
 risked another hazard. He would ask this complacent 
 one for guidance. What he had to do justified aU 
 chances of rebuke. 
 
 *Tardon me, sir," he began, "I am looking for a 
 young fnend of mine whose people own race horses. 
 Where would I be likely to find him?" 
 
 *^f he's an owner he'U probably be in the paddock " 
 replied the composed one. 
 
 "Could you tell me where the paddock is?" 
 
 "To the right," and sweeping his arm in that direc- 
 tion the stranger sank back into his inner conscious- 
 ness, and blinked his eyes languidly, as though the 
 unusual exertion of answering his inquisitor's questions 
 had decidedly bored him. 
 
 'That man is one in a thousand ; yea, forty thousand, 
 lor he IS a stranger to excitement," Mortimer said to 
 
 [«97] 
 
 I'lii 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 hittwelf, as he strode rapidly across the grass to a sate 
 which opened m the direction the other ha? indi^lS^ 
 His eagerness had almost carried him through the irate^ 
 
 JT/ n"" V*'^°l."™ *^'°^ *°^ »^«^e«t, none 
 too gently, barred his further progress. 
 
 Show your badge, please/' cried a voice. 
 Mortimer exposed the pasteboard he had acquired on 
 his entry to the stand. ^u*«:u on 
 
 'TTou can't pass in here," said the guardian: "that's 
 only good for the stand." ' 
 
 "But," began Mortimer. 
 
 k^^^ .^'^^"^^^ "^"'' P^®"®^" ^'^°» the gate- 
 keeper, cut short his conversation. 
 
 Others were waiting to pass through. In despair he 
 gave up his untenable place, and on^ more wrswat 
 lowed in the maelstrom of humanity that eddied about 
 the stand enclosure. 
 
 As he was heading for his rock of locaUty, the stair- 
 way hurrymg somewhat recklessly, he ran with diL 
 
 road he should have kept straight on 
 
 "I beg pardon—" began Mortimer; then stared in 
 blank amazement, cutting short his apology. ThTvi™ 
 tim of his assault was Mr. Crane. Se ktter's cC 
 
 "Mr. Mortimer!" he exclaimed, *Tou here? May I 
 ask who's running the bank P' «f may i 
 
 «f ICr ''*^.'?* ^^ '*^^'^ °^^°'y *^« ««dden advent 
 I.^Z '''' ^«,"°^edifte horizon threw the youM 
 man into momentary confusion. 
 ''My mother was ill-I got leave~I had to see Al«i 
 
 [«»8] 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR 
 
 Portei^IVe come here to find him. TheyTl maiuurt 
 all nght at the bank without me/' 
 
 He fired his volley of explanation at his employer 
 with the rapidity of a Maxim gun. Truth and what 
 he considered excusable falsehood came forth with 
 equal volubility. Crane, somewhat mollified, and feel- 
 ing that at first he had spoken rather sharply, became 
 more gracious. At sight of Mortimer he had concluded 
 that It was to see AUis the young man had come, per- 
 haps at her instigation. 
 
 "Have you seen Alan Porter, sir?" Mortimer asked, 
 anxiously. 
 
 *1 did, but that was about an hour ago. You will 
 probably find him"— he was going to say— "in the pad- 
 dock with his sister," but for reasons he refrained- 
 let me see, most likely sitting up in the grand stand." 
 
 As Mortimer stood scanning the sea of faces that 
 rose wave on wave above him, Mr. Crane said, *1 hope 
 you found your mother better. If I see Alan IT] tell 
 him you are looking for him." 
 
 When Mortimer turned around Crane had gone. 
 He had meant to ask about the race Porter's horse Lau- 
 zanne was in, but had hesitated for fear he should say 
 something which might give rise to a suspicion of his 
 errand. He heard the rolling thunder of hoof beats 
 in the air. From where he stood, over the heads of 
 many people he could see gaudy colored silk jackets 
 coming swiftly up the broad straight boulevard of the 
 race course; even as he looked they passed by with a 
 pecubar bobbing up-and-down motion. The effect was 
 grotesque, for he could not see the horses, could not 
 iee the motive power which carried the bright-colored 
 nders at such a terrific pace. 
 
 [«99] 
 
 
 ji til 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 ^'mjt race i. th.tr he ^ed of one who .tood .t 
 
 The Wb face wore a guUen, diacontented look ^.1 
 no wonder, for he had, with misS^Tder^' wa^ 
 gered many doUars on a horse that was even ^^iZt 
 mg gaily m many yards behind the winner. ^^^^"^ 
 
 JJo you know what r:?x!e that xr»a9>* v,»m 
 
 • ^^??''*^'™'"''''''y<»"- race card?" retorted ih. 
 the haven of liqnid coMolatioii «"uwe« to 
 
 ti^ TV'', T*." " '"' 8«™ Mortimep u> iMpira- 
 tioii He W.ied about and saw many men "mK 
 
 »«U pape. pamphlet.; they were like^j^pleTu^ 
 gallery, catalogue in hand. ^ m an art 
 
 ^.'^ttrrLt».^t^"toT,:'tr>£ 
 
 hon«; told deliberate Ue. to doh. Nw ft ™ nS^ 
 Jif„S*t'«tfo''ate. Hereme^ST^^X'S^ 
 had mi about The Dutchman', certain chance of tri^ 
 =tog the ««ning race. He felt that if the C» ^ 
 Alan would put back the .tolen thouwnd doC~if ^' 
 where would the boy get money to cover up Cthdt f 
 
 1 800 3 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR 
 
 It had aeemed to Mortimer a foolish, desperate thing 
 to risk money on anything so uncertain as a horse race ; 
 bnt here was at stake the honor of a bright, splendid 
 young man— even the happiness of his parents, which 
 the poor, deluded boy had warred on one horse's chance 
 of winning against six others. It was terrible. Mortimer 
 shuddered, and closed his eyes when he thought of the 
 misery, the shame, that would come to Allis and her 
 mother when they knew, as they must, if Crane's horse 
 were beaten, that the son was a thief. Oh, Godl why 
 couldn't he find the boy and save him before it was too 
 late? Probably Alan had already betted the money; but 
 even if that were so, he had vain visions of forcing the 
 man who had received the stolen thousand to disgorge. 
 No one had a right to receive stolen money ; and if neces- 
 sary, Mortimer would give him to understand that he 
 was making himself a party to the crime. 
 
 But the mere fact that he couldn't find Alan Porter 
 rendered him as b'^lpless as a babe ; he might as well have 
 ranained in the bank that day. How willingly he would 
 have hastened back and replaced the money if he but 
 had it. For Allis's sake he would have beggared himself, 
 would have sacrificed a hundred times that sum to 'owe 
 her from the unutterable misery that must come if her 
 brother were denounced as a felon. The love that was in 
 him was overmastering him. 
 
 He was roused from his despondent train of thought 
 by speech that struck with familiar jar upon his ear. It 
 was the voice of the man who had descanted on the pleas- 
 ures of betting during their journey from New York. 
 
 **What d'ye fink of it, pard ?" was the first salutation. 
 
 Mortimer stammered the weak information that he 
 didn't kiow what to think of it. 
 
 [801] 
 
 r 
 
" THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 yen tin*t no flies on us to-day— I»m knockin* 'em 
 out in gwat shape. Can't pick a loser, blamed il I can. 
 I Te Imed up for a cash-in free times, an' I'll make it 
 four straight, sure. LaroenOl come home all alone; you 
 
 **l hope so," rejoined Mortimer. 
 
 "I say, Mister Morton, put down a bet on him— he's 
 good busmess; put a *V' on, an' rake down fifty— datOl 
 pay your ex's. De talent's goin' for De Dutchman, 
 out don t make no mistake about de other, hell win." 
 
 In an instant the young man knew why this persistent 
 womer of a tortured spirit had been sent him. Fate 
 pve him the cue; it whispered in his ear, "Put down a 
 hundred^yoxx have it— and win a thousand; then you 
 can save Alan Porte^-<jan keep this misery from the 
 girl that li to you as your own life." 
 
 Mortimer listened eagerly; to the babbler at his side; 
 to the whisper in his ear; to himself, that spoke within 
 himself. Even if it were not all true, if Lauzanne were 
 beaten, what of it ? He would lose a hundred dollars, but 
 that would not ruin him; it would cause him to save 
 
 *°2il^°^* ^^^' ^^* ^® ^** accustomed to self-denial. 
 
 Will the betting men take a hundred dollare from me 
 
 on this horse, Lauzanne?" he asked, after the minute's 
 
 gnise, during which these thoughts had flashed through 
 
 *]^ill dey take a hundred f Will dey take a fou- 
 tandf Say, what you givin' me ?" 
 
 *lf Lauzanne won, I'd win a thousand, would I?" 
 
 If you put it down straight; but you might play safe 
 -H^lit de hundred, fifty each way, win an' show; Lar- 
 cenll be one, two, free, sure." 
 
 *1 want to win a thousand," declared Mortimer 
 
 iSOSt] 
 
I I 
 
 CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR 
 
 **Dea yon've got to plump fer a win; he's tm to 
 out.** 
 
 Mortimer could hardly undentand himself; he was 
 falling in with the betting idea. It was an age since he 
 stood at his desk in that bank, abhorrent of all gambling 
 methods, to the present moment, when he was actually 
 drawing from his pocket a roll ol bills with which to bet 
 on a horse. 
 
 He took a despairing look through the thicket of hu- 
 man 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. 
 
 '1 want to find Alan Porter," he said, in answer to 
 Oaynor'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 idl at once it occurred to him that if 
 Mortimer got to the paddock he might run up against 
 Allis and recognize her. 
 
 *T)e 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 — ^if s 
 too late ; just wait ye here, sir, and if the b'y's there wit* 
 the nags, I'll sind him out." 
 
 [SOd] 
 
 
TROROUOHBREDS 
 
 Old Bin nude no comment upon Mike"! dipkofttie 
 
 S^^? i/;?* *^* ^^'^^ '<" ^« »»«J obi^ the 
 wm^d hdd true to the m««mi7 wWch exiite between 
 
 "Fm in « hurry meeelf," said Mike; "I jtwt come 
 outto « minute; lee here/' and he nodded his head .ide- 
 
 fe^it^ *'* ''*"'®^ ^'y ^ "'^^ '^^^ • 
 
 "Who's that guy r asked the Trainer. 
 *mr 1 '* ^**^' ^® *^^" himself Old BUI." 
 
 'lie advised me to bet money on Lauzanne " 
 
 ir««- LjTI^^^^'^' ^^^ ^^' y®»°^ ™o<"» does ha 
 Jmow abodt the Chestnut : did ye baok him ?" 
 
 '*Notyet." 
 "Aieyegoin'tor 
 
 in tot r*^''''' Do you think Lauzamie might come 
 
 A slight smile relaxed the habitually drawn muscles of 
 
 iL^ ^^ ^"^' ** ^** ™«>o»« since he had heard 
 anybody tidk of a horse "coming in first;" he was indeed 
 agreen bettor, this young man of the counting house. 
 
 T^LT*^ ili'''^ *,H" ^°« ** «"' ^^^ wondered. 
 It must be because of his interest in the girl, his reason 
 answered. 
 
 '2^ fink hell win if he does his best for her " 
 "Does his best for whof* 
 
 "Miss Allis is managin' the horses,** he explained 
 
 [804] 
 
GHAPl'ER THIRTY-FOUR 
 
 Ttry deliberttely, ''an' t Vre'i a new b'y up on Lausanne*! 
 bade, d'ye ondentand ; an' if the Chestnut doera't sulk, 
 does his best fer the young misthress that'll be watchin* 
 him hen in the stand wit* tears in her eyes, he moight 
 win — d'ye onderstand ?*' 
 
 Tea, Mortimer understood ; it seemed quite clear, for 
 Mike had been to some pains to coyer up the slip he had 
 made. 
 
 ''Now I must go/' he continued ; "an' ye needn't come 
 in the paddock — if the b'y is there, I'll sind him out." 
 
 When Alan's seeker returned to Old Bill, he said, "Mr. 
 Gaynor thinks your choice might come in first." 
 
 "Why was Irish steerin' you clear of de paddock?" 
 asked the other. 
 
 "I suppose it was to save me the expense of buying a 
 ticket for it." 
 
 The othor man said nothing further, but the remem- 
 brance of Mike's wink convinced him that this was not 
 the sole reason. 
 
 They waited for young Porter's appearance, but he did 
 not come. "The geezer yer waitin' fer is not in dere 
 or he'd »«howed up," said Old Bill; "an' if yer goin' to 
 take de tip, we'd better skip to de ring an' see whaf s 
 doin'." 
 
 Mortimer had once visited the stock exchange in New 
 York. He could not help but think how like unto it was 
 the betting ring with its horde of pushing, struggling 
 humans, as he wormed his way in, following close on Old 
 Bill's heels. There was a sort of mechanical aptness in 
 hit: leader's way of displacing men in his path. Morti- 
 mer realized that but for his guide he never would have 
 penetrated beyond the outer shell of the buzzing hive. 
 Even then he hoped that he might, by the direction of 
 
 [805] 
 
 i; 
 
 11 
 
 I 
 
 f 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 chaaoe, lee AUn Porter. The iuue at ttdce, and the 
 prospect of its wlution through hii nawonted betting 
 endetTor, wm dwpeUing hit inherent antipathy to gam- 
 bling; he waa becoming like one drunken with the 
 glamour of a new delight; hii continued desire to dis- 
 cover young Porter was more a rendering of tithes to his 
 former god of chastity which he was about to shatter. 
 
 Two days before betting on horse races was a crime 
 of indecent enormity; now it seemed absolutely excus- 
 able, juatified, almost something to be eagerly approved 
 of. Their ingress, though strenuous, was devoid of 
 rapidity; so, beyond much bracing of muscles, there was 
 mtle to take cogniiance of except his own mental trans- 
 formation. Once he had known a minister, a very good 
 man iijdeed, who had been forred into a fight. The 
 clergyman had acted his unwilling part with such muscu- 
 Uir enthusiasm that his brutish opponent had been re- 
 duced to the lethargic condition of inanimate pulp. 
 Mortimer compared his present exploit with that of his 
 fnend, the clergyman ; he felt that he was very much in 
 the same boat. He was eager to have the bet made and 
 r < It into the less congested air; his companions of the 
 bei.«ng ring were not men to tarry amojg in the way of 
 moral recreation. ^ 
 
 n^VS'^T^^ agitated itself in waves; sometimes he and 
 Old Bill were carried almost across the building by the 
 wash of the living tide as it set in that direction; then 
 an undertow would sweep them back again close to their 
 starting point. The individual members of t^e throng 
 were certainly possessed of innumerable elbow-, and 
 larp jomted knees, and boots that were forever raking 
 at his heels or his corns. They seemed taller, too, than 
 men in the open; strive as he might he could see noth- 
 
 [806] 
 

•\- > 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR 
 
 ing— nothing but heads that topped him in erery direc- 
 tion. Once the prond posseBsor of a dreadful cigar of 
 unrivaled odor became sandwiched between him and his 
 fellow-pilgrim; he was down wind from the weed and 
 its worker, and the result was all but asphyxiation. 
 
 At last they reached some sort of a harbor ; it was evi- 
 dently an inlet for which his pilot had been sailing. A 
 much composed man in a tweed suit, across which 
 screamed lines of gaudy color, sat on a camp stool, with a 
 weary, tolerant look on his browned face; in his hand 
 waa A card on which was penciled the names of the 
 Derby runners with their commercial standing in the 
 betting mart. 
 
 Old Bill craned his neck over the shoulder of the sit- 
 ting man, scanned the book, and turning to Mortimer 
 said, '*Larcen*8 nine to one now; de/re cuttin* him — 
 wiah rd took tens ; lef s go down de line.** 
 
 They pushed out into the sea again, and were buflfeted 
 of the human waves; from time to time Old Bill an- 
 chored for a few seconds in the tiny harbor which sur- 
 rounded each bookmaker ; but it was as though they were 
 all in league — ihe same odds on every list. 
 
 «It*8 same as a 'sociation book," he grunted ; "de cut 
 holds in every blasted one of *em. Here's Jakey Faust," 
 he added, suddenly ; '*let*B try him." 
 
 *What price's LarcenT* he asked of the fat book- 
 maker. 
 
 **What race is he in?" questioned the penciler. 
 
 **Di8 race; what you givin' me 1" 
 
 "Don't know the horse." 
 
 Mortimer interposed. "The gentleman means Lai*- 
 umm" he explained. 
 
 Faust glared in the speaker's face. "Why th' 'ell don't 
 
 [•07] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 l^Wk Bngiiri, then; I'm no Cbinaman, or . mind 
 reader, tognen what he wants. Lanaume k nin^ to™ • 
 now much d'ye want ?** ^^ * 
 
 ;Xay me ten?- aaked Old BiU of the bookmaker. 
 **To how much?*' -^-^w. 
 
 ^A hun'red; an' me frien' wants a hun'red on, 
 
 ^iJ?'?.^°"^^~^'^^*^*'^P»««itIy. 'Ten hun- 
 dred to one Lauzanner he caUed over 4 BhouldeTte 
 his^clerk, taking the bettor's money; an' the niSb^ 
 
 J!^^^'^""^' t'ree.four-BixI" answered Old BilL 
 «P«s him yer dust," he continued, turning to Ws ^m- 
 
 The latter handed his money to Faust. 
 *Lau»anner advised Old BilL 
 
 *«M I • "^1* '^'P ^"^^ ** ***^ ^"^ "^^'^ > ^ Pnwtised eye 
 usuaUy bet ten doUars at the outside; they were evid^ 
 betting on mformation; two one-hunied^ollar beta 
 ooD^ together on Lauzanne probably meant stable 
 
 "Don't I get anything-a receipt, or-" 
 
 r.lT^}'^ *¥' ^^ ^^^«* derisively. 'Ton won't 
 "'±'^??i^*^''^°^'o' this money," heW 
 
 •Well be roun' at de back in a few minutes fer • 
 couple of f on'," retorted Old Bill. ''LeS^t^re^J 
 
 [JOS] ^ 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR 
 
 here/' he added to his oompanion, nuUdog a passage be- 
 tween the bookmakers. 
 
 Bill's knowledge of the local geography was good, and 
 skirting the crowd they were soon out on the lawn. 
 
 'liof s watch de parade/' Mortimer's adjutant sug- 
 gested, and he led the way down to the course, where 
 th^ stood against the rail, waiting. 
 
 [•09] 
 

 XXXV 
 
 During this time there was a bustle of much inteieit 
 m the paddock. Allia, ready dressed in the Porter 
 colors, had been driven to the course half an hour 
 before the time set for the Derby. Her face was as 
 satisfactorily disguised with dust as though she had 
 ndden three races. 
 
 Mike assiduously attended to every detail; even the 
 weighing, thanks to his officious care, was a matter of 
 not mote than one minute. The girl's weight was one 
 hundred and ten pounds, the saddle brought it up to 
 one hundred and thirteen. She would have to ride at 
 least two pounds overweight, for the horse's impost was 
 one hundred and eleven. Lauzanne was being led in a 
 circle by a boy, so Allis shielded herself from the gen- 
 eral gaze m his empty stall. She felt quite sure that 
 nobody there would recognize her, unless, perhaps. 
 Phihp Crane. He was rarely seen in the paddock, but 
 might this day come out to view The Dutchman. The 
 latter horse came in for a great deal of attention, for 
 he had been steadily backed down to the position of 
 equal favorite with White Moth. 
 
 At last there was the summons to saddle, and L«i- 
 zanne was brought into the staU by Dixon. Then the 
 door was shrouded by an ever-chimging semicircle of 
 cunous observere. Allis gave a little start and turned 
 her head away as Crane, pushing through the othen. 
 stood just inside the stall and spoke to Dixon 
 
 [»10] 
 
CHAPTER THIRIT-PIVE 
 
 *T<nir hone looks yery well; I hope you win, if I 
 donV 
 
 '*He*s as good as we could make him/* answered the 
 Trainer, as he adjusted the weight cloth. 
 
 ^Is Miss Porter hereP* were Crane's next words, 
 quite in the tone of a casually interested friend. 
 
 "She may be in the stand/* Dizon answered, without 
 turning his head. Mike had deliberately interposed 
 his body between Allis and the doorway. To the girl's 
 relief, without further ccnnment, Crane quietly moved 
 •way. 
 
 '^Excuse me, Al fer standin* in front av ye," said 
 Mike, **but these outsiders is enough to make a b'y 
 narvous the way they stare at him. Alan Porter w«^ 
 in the paddock a minute ago askin* fer his sister, bu 
 hustled him out, telling him ye— I mean she— was 
 the stand." 
 
 **Thank you, Mike; you'i a good friend," replied the 
 girl, gratefully. 
 
 Dixon had never taken so much care over the prepa- 
 ration of a horse for a race in all his life; and at hist 
 everything was as perfect as it could possibly be made. 
 Lauxanne's behavior gladdened the girl's heart; he was 
 as supremely indifferent to the saddling, to the staring 
 of the people, to the scent of battle that was in the soft 
 summer air, as though he were in his own stable at 
 home. Not a muscle of his huge flank trembled. Once, 
 as the bridle rein was loosened for an instant, he half 
 turned in the stall, curved his neck and stretched his 
 golden nozzle toward the small figure in blue silk, as 
 though he fain would make sure by scent that one of 
 his natural enemies, a man jockey, had not been thrust 
 upon him. Allis understood this questioning move- 
 
 [«11] 
 
TH0R0U0HBBED8 
 
 mant, and ntohing out her hand nibbed the gray Telvet 
 of hii noee. But for the reftraining re^ tightened 
 qnickly by the boy who held him, Lausanne would have 
 •nuggled hia head againit hi* little mistieM. 
 
 '*They understand each other," said Dixon to Mike, 
 
 in an undertone; '*weTl get all thafs in him this trip." 
 
 "Bof f umbs up ! if he doesn't come home alone 111 
 
 eat me hat The sharks'll get a knock this jourtiey 
 
 thatni make 'em take a tumble to themselyes." 
 
 Dixon stepped back to the corner where Allis was and 
 said:"! guess I can't giye you no orders. He's a bit 
 sluggish at the post, an' a few false breaks won't hurt 
 him none. Just don't be afraid, thafs all. A mile an' 
 a half s a long journey, an' you'll have plenty of time 
 to take their measure. He's sure to get away last, but 
 that won't matter; thereOl be plenty of openin's to get 
 through after you've ^ne a mile. Just keep your eye 
 on The Dutchman— he's a stayer from 'way back; an* 
 Westley may kid you that he's beat oomin' up the 
 staretch, for he's slick as they make them, an' then come 
 with a rattle at the finish an' nose you out on the poet. 
 Don't never let up once you're into the stretch; if 
 you're ten lengtL«i ahead don't let the Chestnut down, 
 but keep a good holt on him, an' finish as thou^ they 
 was all lapped on your quarter. There's a horse in the 
 race I don't understand; he can no more get a mile an* 
 a halt than I could; ifs the Indian, an' whj they're 
 puttin* up the startin' price beats me, unless"— and he 
 lowered his voice to a whisper— there's a job to carry 
 Lauzanne, or White Moth, or somethin* off their feet. 
 Just watch the Indian, an' don't let him shut you in on 
 the rail if you can help it. They've put up Bedpath, 
 an' that beats me, too, for I think he's strdght But 
 
 [8I«] 
 
>,-•'• ■•; 
 
 CHAPTER THmXY-FIVE 
 
 the Indian hain't a ghost of a chance to win. You'd 
 better take a whip/' 
 
 *T. don't want either whip or spun/' aniwered the 
 girL lAiuanne will do better without them.'' 
 
 **I know that, but take a whip—aomething else in 
 the race might need it; an' if you have to use it, use 
 it good an' strong. If Langdon lodges an objection I 
 can make him quit." 
 
 Over at The Dutchman's stall there was a yery con- 
 findent party. Their horse would go to the post as fit 
 as any thoroughbred had ever Btnpped. Langdon was 
 a great trainer — there was no doubt about that; if 
 there had been Crane would have discovered it and 
 changed his executive officer. The tall son of Hanover 
 was lean of flesh, but gross in muscle. He was as 
 though an Angelo had chiseled with sure hand from 
 his neck, and ribs, and buttocks all the marble of use- 
 less waste, and left untouched in sinewy beauty layer 
 on layer, each muscle, and thew, and cord. Flat-boned 
 and wide the black-glossed legs, and over the corded 
 form a silken skin of dull fire-red. From the big ^es 
 l^eamed an expectant delight of the strug^e; not 
 sluggishly indifferent, as was Lausanne's, but knowing 
 of tltt inj and joyous in its welcome. 
 
 ''He'll win on a Hgtit rein," confided Langdon to 
 Jockey Westley ; "he's the greatest Hanover in the land. 
 There's a doxen races bottled up in that carcass"— «nd 
 he slapped the big Bay lovingly on the rump— "but if 
 you're put to it. Bill, you can call on him fer the full 
 doaen to-day. There's nothin' to it but yourself and 
 White Moth." 
 
 Carelessly he stepped to the back of the stall, touch- 
 ing Westley as he passed. Kicking the loose dirt with 
 
 [«18] 
 
THOBOUOHBREDS 
 
 hii toM, and bending hif hetd to boy hit Toiet, Uam- 
 don continiied in a mbdned tone: **The Indianll cat 
 out the pace so fait that itil choke off Lansanne. The 
 Chertnuf i a plngger an* ain't no good when it oomei to 
 gallopin'. If you was to all loaf aroon' he might hang 
 on an* ilniah in front; but the paoe*U kill him—itll 
 bwak hia heart; the faat goin*ll lay ont White Moth, 
 too, for she*ll go to the front an* die away after a mile 
 an' a quarter. Just nurse the Bay, an' let the othen 
 fight the Indian. But don't loaf an' let Lauianne get 
 near you, fer he can keep up a puddlin' gait all day 
 There ain't nothin* else in the race I*m afraid of i 
 there ain*t one of them can last a mile an* a hall'* 
 Then he added, with a disagreeable chuckle— 4t was 
 like the slAbbering laugh of a hyena— 'l miss my guess 
 if the boy on Lauianne kills himself tryin' to win any- 
 way. He seems a fair lad, but you can ride rings *ronnd 
 
 'I'll put up a good ride on The Dutchman, an' I 
 think weTl ketch the Judg^rs eye,** replied Weetlej. 'It 
 doesn't seem to stand for it that a stable-boy on a bad 
 horse like Lauzanne is goin' to beat me out.** 
 
 '*The boss says you*re to havte two thousand fer 
 winnin*, Westley, so don't make no mistake. I wasn't 
 goin' to tell you this afore you went out, fer fear if d 
 m^ you too eager. Many a race'p been thrown away 
 by a boy bein' too keen, an* makin' his run too eariy in 
 tte game; but you've a good head and might as weU 
 know what you're to have. There's the bugle; get up." 
 
 Eager hands stripped the blanket that had been 
 thrown over The Dutchman; Westley was lifted into 
 the saddle, and the gallant Bay led out by Langdon. 
 
 In front strode White Moth; one by one the others. 
 
 [8U] 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE 
 
 ■Bd Uti, leTtnth, Ami's UM number, lagged Uii- 
 mam, lasily loafing along at though he regretted leftT- 
 ing the stall. 
 
 As the horses passed to the course. Crane, who had 
 followed The Dutchman to the gate, raised his eyes 
 from scanning Lausanne to the rider on his back. It 
 was just a look of languid interest in the apprentice 
 boy Dixon had put up instead of such a good jockey as 
 Bedpath. The face riretted his attention; something 
 in the line of the cheek recalled a face he had constantly 
 in riew. 
 
 "For an instant I thought that was Alan Porter on 
 lAusanne/' he said to Langdon, who was at his elbow. 
 "A strange fancy— I'm going up to the stand to watch 
 the race." 
 
 "Ifs all roight but the win now/* said Mike to 
 Dinm. «I*m goin' in be the Judges' box to watch the 
 ilnish. YouTl be helpin' the b'y pass the scales, Andy." 
 
 As AUis passed the Judges' Stand in the parade she 
 oast a quick, furtife look toward the people on the lawn. 
 She seoned pilloried on an eminence, lifted up in piti- 
 less prominence; would anyone detect her at the last 
 moment? Hanging over the rail in the mj front she 
 saw a pale face that struck a chill of fear to her heart— 
 it was Mortimer's. She had not even thought of his 
 being there. She had eluded the dose scrutiny of all 
 the others who were likely to recognise her, but there, 
 within ten yards were eyes almost certain to penetrate 
 her disguise. The girl turned her face away; she 
 knew Mortimer well enough to think that if he did 
 TCoogniie her he would make no sign. 
 
 *Thaf s our horse," declared Old Bill, as Lausanne 
 PMied. "He's all right, bet yer life; he's fit ter go aU 
 
 [015] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 day. Dt gMm m trains him ain't no mug. LaPi go 
 np in de itand, where we can aee de whole ihow; dn 
 well oome down an' oaah in. Say, pard, if dis gota 
 tfaroQi^ 111 blow yon off to a bottle of de beat; wine 
 ain^ none too good f er dia coop." 
 
 Altogether it waa aa though Deatiny had fonnd 
 pleasant domicile in the ancient clothing of Old l^ill, 
 and waa nsing their nniqne wearer aa a protectiye agent 
 to ward off evil from both Mortimer and t^ girl As 
 they Jogged toward the starting post Allis allowed 
 Lanaanne to lag; she wished to sToid Redpath. Bnt 
 the Indian wm a horse of uncertain temperament, and 
 presently, with a foolish side rush, he cannoned fkir 
 into Lannnne. In the melee Bedpath looked fall into 
 Allis's eyds at short range. Hia face went white in an 
 instant. 
 
 '*You »*' he cried, pulling hard at his horse's mouth; 
 *if s you. Miss—" He stopped suddenly. «God I I'm 
 glad I know this," he jerked between set teeth, as he 
 fought the Indian, who was nearly pulling him out of 
 the saddle. 
 
 **Ifa because heTl gallop for you, isn't it? You 
 didnt think I was a wrong one— it wasnt because yon 
 couldn't trust me you took the mount away, was it?" 
 
 The Indian, quieted by the sleepy Chestnut, waa 
 going steadier. 
 
 '^o; ifs because Lauzanne won't giye his running 
 for anyone but me," the girl answraed. 
 
 The boy remained silent, thinking over why he was 
 on the Indian. There was s moral obliquity about his 
 present podtion; the new light of his discovery showed 
 him this strongly. His feelings had been played upon 
 by the owner of the Indian, at Langdon's instigation. 
 
 [S10] 
 
CHAPTER THIRIT-FIVS 
 
 Ht l»d bttn told that th* Porttn had not given him 
 the mount on LaonmM beoanae they diatnuted him. 
 Ha had been put on the hone to make mnning for The 
 Dntehman. There waa nothing really patently dia- 
 honeat abont thia arrangement, and Bedpath's mind 
 had been dolled to fine discrimination by the idea that 
 he waa ialeely diatnuted. 
 
 Pxeaently the boy ipoke with iharp deciaion, in quick 
 broken eentenoea, for th^ were nearing the Starter. 
 I'te in to make the ronning; thia crock'i got no lioenae 
 to win. Don't yon bother about lum — hell come back 
 to the others fast enough when he's done. When yon 
 want an opening to get through just come bang into 
 me— 111 be next the rail; yell lAuaanne/ an' I'll pull 
 out. I'll give them blasted crooks something to stare 
 at. Don't gallop your mount's head off chasing this 
 sprinter; hell be beat when we awing into the stretch. 
 Don't go wide at the turn; you can have my place; 
 111 make it wide for something dse thou^." 
 
 They were at the poet. Allia had not spoken; she 
 had listened gratefully to Bedpath's atring of kindly 
 directions. Tie presence of a friend in the race cheered 
 her; the discovery she had dreaded had come aa a 
 Messing. 
 
 CS17] 
 
A^S^A^. ^ •*''**^ a train of thought in Lmw- 
 of LtiutiWi rider hiMi a dwam-like familiarity. He 
 
 •nggeetion that the boy wa. like Alan Porter echoed in 
 m.e«». He had wondered where Dixon had got thii 
 
 •tead of Bedpath; it teemed a foolidi thing to sire the 
 niMint to tn apprentice when a good )o^ i^ to bl 
 
 f«m^ wwjnatnral-bom jockeys father and mm, eren 
 
 I. Jt^^^T """^ ^' ^^ ^^rter'" movement^-. 
 had not been interested enough to know. He had heard 
 der^tery ronarka about Bedpath'. riding of Lucretia 
 
 •atttfled-juepicioui of the jockey-had put up Alan to 
 utture an h<meet ridei f-^imw 
 
 Wdon had thought these thoughts as he nassed 
 jrrftiy from the paddc^ to theZld inclosure,'wK^ 
 ifA^/''* I" '^'^ *^ "^' *^7ing to get a goid C 
 fi^^S?>^!S^"- ^^"i^-Pe'StenUyay^fMe 
 ^t^^ The boy was inscribed on tSjoi^ 
 
 that mu^e. If it were really Alan Porter, why hadlS 
 beencdledMayne? But the boy had retailed the namJ 
 Ai —that was a contraction of A]>n^ no doubt 
 
 [ 818 ] 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX 
 
 Whflff LftogdoD labored over the proMem of Miyne*! 
 idtuiity be had watched the * frsea at the post through 
 hia glaaaea. The Dntchman waa bthaTiag well, hig trifle 
 of eageraeaa to break away waa even better than Lau- 
 nmie'a indolent indilforence. The other !!▼• wen acting 
 aa three-year-olda are wont to act— with emttic indeci- 
 ai<ni ; one minnte riolent desire, and the nesxt obstinate 
 relnetanoe characterising their interminable twistings, 
 baddngi, nnd plongings. It was not for long; a neck 
 or a length at the start meant little when a mile and a 
 half stretched its tiring length between them and the 
 finish post. 
 
 Langdon's perplexity was cut short by the cry, 
 "They're off!" the jingle of a bell, and the scurrying of 
 many feet, as eager men rushed for higher points of ob- 
 aerration in the stand. 
 
 As the seven horses came thundering by, pulling dou- 
 ble in eager ignorance of the long journey that lay before 
 them, Langdon saw with evil satisfaction that the Indian 
 was well ont in the lead. 
 
 The Dntchman was sixth, and behind, with a short 
 awkward strength in his gallop, loafed Lauunne. 
 
 There waa smoothness in the stride of Hanover's big 
 ion. The Dutchman ; and his trainer, as he watched him 
 swing with strong grace around the first turn, mentally 
 fingered the ten thousand dollars that would shortly be 
 hia. 
 
 •That skate win r he sneered, as Lausanne followed ; 
 *he gallops like a fat pig. He can't live the pace—he 
 can't livB the pace," he repeated, and his voice was mel- 
 low with a cheerful exultation. 
 
 His observations seemed eminently truthful; Alli8*s 
 horse trailed farther and farther behind the others. Ont 
 
 [ 819 ] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 m^front galloped with lUMemixig hwte th« Indutn-ni 
 brown Wotch of swift-gUding color. Two length from 
 hM gimtmg heels raced four hones in a Widt-two 
 J*y", a gray, and a black; so dose together that thej 
 formed a smaU mosaic of mottled hue against the dzab- 
 gnj bad^gronnd of the course stables beyond. Then 
 The Dutchman, with his powerful stride, full of easv 
 motion-a tueless gallop that would surely land him 
 the winner, Langdon thought, as he hung with breath- 
 less interest on every move of Westley^s body 
 
 Up in the stand Old Bill was expressing in florid race- 
 track speech to Mortimer his deductions. 
 
 w ^V,?^ ^^ ®° ^^^^^'^ See what he's doin'r 
 h^traihn' 'em. Dafs where our horse gits it: he's a 
 stretch nmner, he is. DeyTl have beUows to mend when 
 he tackles 'em." 
 
 To Mortimer it appeared very much as though the 
 other horses were too fast for Lausanne. "Isn't he los- 
 ing?' he asked of his exuberant friend. 
 
 *1x>8in' nut'in'f De kid ain't moved on him yet 
 De others is gaUopin' der heads off; dey're chasin' de 
 cra^ slate in front Dere's only two jocks in de race 
 worth a dsmn-Bill Westley an' de kid oi our hor«,. ^ 
 toows hes got to beat Dutchy, an' he's lyin' handv by 
 When you see Dutchy move up LaroenTl come away, ^ 
 I m a goat" "" 
 
 Mike Gaynor had taken his place on the little platform 
 at the top of the steps leading to the stand. He was 
 watching the race with intense interest Would Lan- 
 anne do his best for the girl— or would he sulk? He 
 wLS 1/^^^° pace tiiat the Indian had set the others. 
 Would It discourage their horse. His judgment told him 
 that this fast pace could not last, and that Uuzanne 
 
 [«tO] 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX 
 
 conld gallop aa he was going from end to end of the mile 
 and a half ; eren faster if he ao wished. Would hia rider 
 have the patient steadiness of nerve to wait for this ful- 
 fillment of the inevitable — or would she become rattled 
 and urge the horse. Mike set his teeth, and his nails 
 w«re driven hard into his rough palms as he strained in 
 qrmpathy with the girl's quietude. 
 
 How long the Indian held on in his mad lead ! Per- 
 haps even he might upset aU clever calculation and last 
 long enough to win. Already the gray, White Moth, had 
 drawn out from the bunch and was second; the other 
 three were dropping back in straggling order to The 
 Dutchman, who was still running as he had been, strong. 
 That was at the mile. At the mile and an eightlk. White 
 Moth was at the Indian's he^ ; The Dutchman had 
 moved up into third place, two lengths away ; and Lau- 
 nnne had become merged in the three that were already 
 beaten. At the mile and a quarter a half thrill of hx>p9 
 came to Mike, for Lausanne was clear of the ruck, and 
 ivrdy gaining on the leaders. And still his rider was 
 lying low on the withers, just a blue Uur on the dark 
 gold ot the Chestnut 
 
 «Bof f umbs I but they're a pair," muttered the Irish- 
 man; <*be me soul, I fink they'll win." 
 
 At the bottom turn into the stretch Mike could see that 
 White Moth and The Dutchman had closed up on the 
 Indian, so that they swung around the comer as one 
 hmae. 
 
 "Gad, she's shut off!" he muttered. It was a liv- 
 ing wall, and through little chinks in its quivering 
 faoB he could see specks of blue close up where raced 
 
 **Poor gurl I" he gasped, 'theyVe got her in a pocket. 
 
 [8SU 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 2^*^"^b> Wliy did ahe hug the rail-die*. lair 
 rroTred away the last chance/' 
 
 Halfway up the steps stood Langdon, and his coarse, 
 ej^&ce took on a look of unhohTj^ i UuzanSTiS 
 blo^ into oblivion by the horses in front. 
 
 ih^ a deafening roar went up from the stand. 
 So^body thrust a pair of broad shoulders in front of 
 Mike's face; he leaned out far past the intruder, and saw 
 the Indian swg^drunkenly in his stride away frc^^ 
 rail, oirrjnng White Moth and The Dutchnum out: ^ 
 
 rwdy the damor of many yoices was spUtting the air : aU 
 oyer the stMid it was, 'The favorite iinsi lie D^i^. 
 man wins r Even yet thero was no beckon^cS for 
 Lautanne; but Mike knew. He had said to^ before 
 J^riS:r^'y--«^^-l-t''emint^t,^^ 
 
 And now Lauzanne's yellow head was even with the 
 
 o^n;«"il;:??'''*7"^^°*- And then th^wSe 
 «« fh!^ battW-Lanzanne and The Dutchman; and 
 on tiie Bay, Westley was riding with whip and spui. 
 Pin f T'S'"""' * ^'^' I toU you 1« fairly screamed Old 
 BiU, clutching at Mortimer's arm; "didn'tlS you ? 
 
 ?f^.;*^?"^'l^'zr^• i^k;thim,io4;te' 
 
 He had climbed halfway up Mortimer's strong back in 
 hi«excitement.l^katdekidl Never mofed~L^ 
 walk, ma walk I Larcen all the way for a m»tfw«r 
 
 [d2f ] 
 
Into the opening, glued to the rail, crept the chestnut form 
 
 qf iMuzanne. 
 
CHAPTER THIRTy-SIX 
 
 Hto voice generaUy wedt and tattered like hii dothes. 
 had iken to a shrill scream of exultation. 
 
 It was past all doubt. Lauzanne, a length in front of 
 TTie DntcAman, was opposite the stand; in two seconds 
 ttey had flashed by the Judges' box, and Lanianne had 
 won. 
 
 The wave of hmnanity that swept down the steps car- 
 ried Ifike in its front wash. He took his stand close to 
 the Judges' box; there he would be handy for whatever 
 might be needed. He saw Langdon with a face dark and 
 towering, full of an evil discontent, standhig there too. 
 Back the seven runnere cantered. Lauaanne's rider 
 sahited the judge with whip, and sUpping from the horse 
 •tnppee him of the saddle with deft fingers, and passed 
 qidddy into the scalee. The weight was right. One 
 after another the boys weighed. 
 
 Watching, Kike saw La^on pass up to the Stewards. 
 Th«e was a short consultation, the hush of something 
 wxoag, and a murmur of an objection. 
 
 •n^hat's the matterr a voice questioned in Mike's ear 
 It waa Alan Porter that had spoken. 
 
 Ififce piuhed hia way to the smaU gate, even through 
 ft, «iat led up to the Stewards' Stand. As he did io 
 Iggton came back down the steps. One of the Stew- 
 «^ fo llowing him with quick eyes, saw Mike and 
 •tanaed with a finger. 
 /There's an objection to the rider of Lauxanne," said 
 
 flie offidd ; «Trainer Langdon says Alan Porter rode the 
 hone imder a permit belonging to a boy named Mayne." 
 
 •Be 8 mistook, sir." answered Mike, lespectfuUy; 
 "there's Alan Porter standin' down there in the crowd, 
 ni sind him up, sir, an' ye can ask him yerself ." 
 
 Ckynor passed hurriedly down the stras, seized Porter 
 
 [8S8] 
 
 X 
 
TH0B0U6HBREDS 
 
 ^the Mm, jnd whiipered in Mi ett, "TeU th* Jiidw 
 
 ^T^ ^V^PP®^ '^P ^ LwgdMi. Tte ktW had 
 •een iUan Porter go up the itep., and realiaed he had 
 ffl«de a mistake. Mike drew him inride the little T 
 doaure that snrKmnded the itand. 
 
 w^pered doee to the man's face; «an' yell' wiS^ 
 tte objection at once. If ye don't yeTl ha^to setTS? 
 the Steward, for tryin' to bribe the b'y May^te pS 
 
 g«»t fiye hundred doUars fer dodn' Lncretia. YeTl with- 
 draw now, or get ruled off fer Hfe; beddea, p'iainin' a 
 horse is jail business; an' ni take me oath before God 
 lean proretiiis, too. Now go an' withdraw q^yi?; 
 a damn blackguard." ^ 
 
 Mike had meant to restrict himself to diplomatio 
 presture, but his Irish was up like a flaa^^S^ 
 couldn't rerist the final expressiwi of wratt!^ 
 
 A CTowd of silent men had gathered about the box in a 
 J^^'^^w*- ^^^^ depended upon the brief oon. 
 sultation that was being held between theStewaids. 
 .f-«f iJf Porter came down Langdon went up (ha 
 steps with nervous haste. 'Tve made a mistake. Bwitla. 
 
 m withdraw the objection.'' *«»-— «uii 
 
 « J^?^^*'^!^' **^ ''•y'" '«*™ed <«e o' the Stew- 
 ards; '^e best horse won, and thafs what rating's 1^ 
 
 FtM] 
 
xxxvn 
 
 AfTiB hi« first burst of aboriginal glee, ecstatically 
 iincouth as it was. Old Bill's joy over the victory of 
 lAQsanne took on a milder form of expression. 
 
 *I*t*8 line np fer a cash-in," he exclaimed to Morti- 
 mer, making a break down the steps to the lawn. On 
 the ground he stopped, his mind work^ at fever heat, 
 changing its methods quickly. 
 
 **l4jfs wait till de kid's passed de scales; dere's no 
 hurry. Dere won't be many drawin* down money over 
 Laroen; he's an outsider." 
 
 They were still waiting when the rumor of an objec- 
 tion floated like an impalpable shadow of evil through 
 the enclosure. Old BiU's seamed face shed its mask of 
 juvenile hilarity, and furrowed back into its normal 
 condition of disgruntled bitterness. He had seen the 
 Oif^t mix-up when the Indian swerved in the straight. 
 The objection must have to do with that, he thought 
 "What th' 'eU's th' differenee," he said in fierce, impre- 
 wting anger; "de kid on Larcen didn't do no inter- 
 Mrin', he jes come t'rough de openin' an* won— dev 
 can't disqualify him." 
 
 "What does it mean?" asked Mortimer; "what's 
 wrong?" 
 
 **De push's tryin' to steal de race; de favorite's 
 bwit, an' ifs win, tie, or wrangle wit' 'em. If dey 
 take de race away from Larcen we don't get de goods, 
 
 ? Our f ou's up de spout Dere he goes, dere he 
 
 [8ffi] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 goei; look at de knocker/' m Langdon came down fram 
 the Stewards. 
 
 Mortimer's heart sank. An exultation snch at he 
 had never experienced in his life had flushed his bx«ast 
 hot; the back of his scalp had tickled in a ereepj way 
 as Lauzanne flashed first past the winning post. He 
 bad felt pride in the horse, in the boy on his back, in 
 himself at haying overcome his scruples; he wonld be 
 able to save Alan Porter from dishonor. His heaii had 
 warmed to the tattered outcast at his side, who had 
 been the means to this glorious end. It had been all 
 over, accomplished; now it was again thrust back into 
 the scales, where it dangled as insecure as ever. It 
 wasn't the money alone that teetered in the balance, 
 but the honor of Allis Porter's brother. 
 
 He g^ve a sharp cry of astonishment, for going up 
 the steps in front of them was the boy himself, Alan. 
 Presently he came down again, his face looking drawn 
 and perplexed. In his ignorance of everything per- 
 taining to racing Mortimer feared for an instant the 
 theft of the thousand dollars had hem discovnted, and 
 the present inquiry had something to do with that, else 
 why was Alan mixed up in it. 
 
 As the boy came through the little gate MartiBier 
 accosted him. "Hello, Alan I" he exclaimed, very gently, 
 **what's the trouble?" » ^ b /» 
 
 "Just a silly mistake," answered Porter, a weak laugh 
 following his words ; "lisngdon has claimed that I rode 
 Lauzanne " 
 
 » 
 
 'Is dat it?" interposed Old Bill; "an' did yon teU 
 dem dey was wrong— de stiffs I Bore's cutf roat Lang- 
 don up again; here he comes ba.';:, looking as foa|^ 
 
 he'd been flred fer 
 
 comes 
 splint — de 
 
 CM6] 
 
 crook! HeUo! ifa aU 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN 
 
 fi^ Hoo-rtyt LttutiuMgittderMer FortlfMcly 
 iht eiy of ''All rightr ▼•• ringiiig through the hotting 
 liag. ''Come oo, ptrd/' called Old Bill, etgerly, to 
 Mortimer; "lefs go an' rake down de dough/' 
 
 **In a minnte," the other aniwered; and turning to 
 Alan Porter, took him by the arm and led him to one 
 ride. "I rappoee yon loet over The Dutchman/' he 
 laid. 
 
 *Tei, Fm broke,'' answered the boy, with a plaintiye 
 mfle. 
 
 "Well, r?e won." 
 
 Ton betting!" ezdaimed Alan, in aatonishment. 
 
 Te»— etrange, im't it? Bnt I'm going to put that 
 money of your father's back." 
 
 The boy laid nothing, and Mortimor fancied that hia 
 fioe fiufbed guiltily. 
 
 Tea, I ean put it back now that Lausanne's won," 
 eontinuiBd Mortimer; "but don't say a word to a 
 soul about it, I dim't want anybody to know I was 
 betting." 
 
 ''But what mon^?" began Alan. 
 
 Tre wmi a thousand ^Uars on Lausanne—" 
 
 "Come on, pard," said Old Bill, impatiently inter- 
 nqpting them, let's get our rake off, an' den you kin 
 badk to yer chum aftor." 
 
 Mortimer yidded to the tattered one's command, for 
 witiiottt his guidance he nerer would be able to find the 
 man that held the money. 
 
 "Ill be back in a little while," he said to young 
 Porter; "don't go away." 
 
 l%ere was delay oyer the cashing in ; being late, they 
 found a line of Lausanne men in front of them at the 
 bocdonaker's stand. 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 Whwa Kortimer returned to the lawn with eleren 
 hundred doUar» in hii pocket Alan Porter had gone. 
 He had dreaded that perhapa the hoy mifht do aoma- 
 thingdeeperate, fearing disrovery of thetheft; he had 
 thought eren of taking Alan back to Brookfleld with 
 him; howerer, he had told him that the money would 
 be replaced, the boy would nndentand that nothing 
 could happen him and would go back, Mortimer felt 
 sure. He spent a short time searching for Alan, but 
 his former fruitless quest had shown him the hopeless- 
 ness of trying to find a person in that immense throng. 
 He thought kindly of the enreloping mob that had kept 
 him hidden from AlUs, as he thought He had ieared 
 to meet hei^-^mething in his presence might cause 
 her <o suspect that something wu wrong. The whole 
 episode, was like a fairy dream. It was a queer twist 
 of Fate's web, his winning enough over Lausanno'-he, 
 a man who had never betted in his life— to replace the 
 money the brother had stolen. 
 
 All at once it occurred to him that some reward was 
 due the instigator of his success. The thousand he 
 must keep intact. He had a few loose dollars in his 
 pocket beyond his original hundred, quite sufficient to 
 take him back to Brookfleld. Takii^ the hundred from 
 his pocket and turning to Old Bill, who was still with 
 him, he said: Tm going home, IVe had enough horse 
 wcing for one day; you've done me a great kindnesa— 
 will you take this hundred— I need the thousand badly 
 so can't spare more than this." 
 
 ''Not on yer life, pard. I give you de tip first, but 
 you got de office straight from Irish, an' we're quits, see ? 
 I wman't playin' you f er a sucker, an' yer straijit goods. 
 Jea shove de boodle in yer breast pocket, an' don't 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN 
 
 ihoir it to no one. Dare's MmM here •• would take it 
 off joa qniek enough.'* 
 
 "But-" 
 
 *q)ere ain't no bnts in die game— if e a etraight deal, 
 an' lre^re eplit eren. If you'd been a crook, well, God 
 knows how we'd a-panned out. But yon ain't no geeier 
 of dat eort— yer equare, an' Old Bill wiehee you good 
 huk till de robine nest again. Yer goin', eh? Say, 
 pard, I'd a-been wearin' diamon'e if I could quit when 
 I wae liead of de game. Yer dead onto it. Here'e my 
 huid, Mr. Morton." 
 
 ^Mortimer — George Mortimer." 
 
 <^ell, ehake, George. Where do you hang oatP* 
 
 <<Brookfield." 
 
 *lCy address is New York. Daf s as dose a fit as I 
 knows at present. If de run o' luck keeps up p'r'aps 111 
 write you £rom de Waldorf. Good-bye, ol' man." 
 
 Witii a light heart Mortimer hastened from Graves- 
 end, iMt waiting for the other races, and took his way to 
 Brookfield. A genuine admiration of buffeted Old Bill 
 fiUed his mind. 
 
 In the morning he would be at the bank bright and 
 early, and replace the stolen thousand dollars; nobody 
 woiold know that it had been takoi. The narrow es- 
 cape that had come to Alan Porter might prove his 
 salvation. Surely it would cure him of his desire to 
 h^ Out of all this evil positive good would accrue. 
 
 [M9] 
 
xxxvin 
 
 Affin wiiming on L«iisaime Allif had dodg«d Um 
 •dmiriiig erowd of paddock ngnUn that followed her. 
 Ai Lauaamw waa being blanketed she had kiiaed the 
 hone'i cheek and given him a mighty aqneeie of thank- 
 falneM. How nobly he had done his part; good, dear 
 old deipiied, miijndged Lanianne. He had reritably 
 laTed her father from disaster; had saved her from— 
 from many things. 
 
 She had slipped into her long coat and stood waiting 
 lor MiUB to drive her to Dixon's cottage when the mmor 
 came of an objection. Then there had been the misery 
 of terrible suspense, a wait of nnoertainty. Wm her 
 sacrifice of womanly instinct to go for nothing? Diz(m 
 had hurried to the scene of investigation; then he had 
 come back after a little with Mike, and the good news 
 that they had been given the race. If it had not been for 
 prying eyes she would have knelt there at Lansanne's 
 feet and offered np a prayer of thanldNilness. She had 
 done all a woman coold do, ahnost more; Providence 
 had not forsaken her and her stricken father. 
 
 Then Mike had hurried her to the boggy jnst as 
 Crane, leaving the beaten Dutchman and Langdon, had 
 come, asking Dixon where Miss Porter was, that he 
 might tender congratulations. He wanted to see the 
 boy that had ridden Lanzanne, also— wanted to take 
 his hand and tell him what a grand race he had ridden. 
 But Dixon had been ready with excoses; the boy waa 
 
 [MO] 
 
CHAPTER TUIKTY'EIGHT 
 
 ted bMt tft«r tho r t c o h e wm only a kid— «nd had 
 gone to Dizon't home. Miae Porter trie perhept in the 
 ■tend, or perhaps ehe had gone home alio. Crane knew 
 ^ Langdon'i <A>jection. It was a eiUy thing, he said, 
 due to OTereagemoM. He had taken no part in it, he 
 amred Dixon. Alan Porter, too, came into the pad- 
 doek, aeking for hit tiiter; but fared pretty mur'; ; ■ 
 Crane had. He would certainly find her at tiie cottai , 
 Diion aefored him. 
 
 That night Allii wired the joyful tidinc:^ to 'm 
 father, and that she would be home in the mrrm it 
 
 Dr. Bathbone'i prophecy ai to the proper iiioiiii'ttiun 
 for John Porter stood a chance of being fnl<ljle(] b^ ii;,e 
 day. Allit'B telegram proved that the doctor had un- 
 dentood the pathology of Porter*! treatment, for Ue 
 became as a cripple who had touched the garment • r ^ 
 magic healer. 
 
 It was thna that Allis found him when bLu reached 
 Bingwood. Oh, but the was glad; and small wonder. 
 What she had done was as nothing; it shrank into in- 
 significance under the glamourous light of the change 
 that had come over t^ home. What a magic wand 
 was deserved success; how it touched with fairy aspect 
 aU that drooped with the fearsome blight of anticipated 
 decay! And eT«ii then they did not know the fnll 
 extent of her endeavor. Mingled with her mother's 
 gentle welcome, and her father's full-throated thanks, 
 was praise for the, to him unknown, boy that had ridden 
 Lausanne so gallantly. 
 
 The girl found tears of thankfulness glistening in 
 her eyes as she listened to the praise that was wholly 
 hers, though given in part to the jockey. They had 
 not even heard his name — ^it had not mattered before; 
 
 [Ml] 
 
 u 1 
 
■M.^ ? 
 
 THOROUGHBREDS ^ 
 
 nd now when h«r father asked for it, ihe aaiwovd 
 that Hike oaUed him Al lomething. Her father, gen- 
 aooA^m hia salration, wm most lolicitoaa as to « fitting 
 present; a thousand dollars, or perhaps two, or even 
 more, if Dixon adyised so. What had he promised the 
 lad? But there were so many things to talk o?er and 
 settle, and langh about, and congratulate eadi other 
 npon. Good fortune was a generous dame. They were 
 •11 like children in their happiness. 
 
 "Yes, Alan had been there," the girl answered to a 
 question from her father. Also it was a strange hap- 
 pening, a distortion of fate that Crane had beaten them 
 in the Brooklyn with Diablo, and now they had beaten 
 his horse. The Dutchman, with Lausanne the Despised. 
 All was content after the turmoil of endeaTor. 
 
 And of the horses, Lausanne, who would gaUop for 
 no one but Allis, would be brought bade to Bingwood, 
 to be petted and spoiled of his young mistress fbr the 
 good he had done. Lucretia, when convalescent, would 
 also come to the farm to rest and get strong. 
 
 In the midst of it all Dr. Bathbone came in, and of 
 course, man-like and doctor-like, with pretended pom- 
 posity, said: 'I told you so. What did I say? Now 
 Mrs. Porter, no more scolding over the ways of horses— 
 a good horse is a delight, and a good dauditer a joy 
 forever." 
 
 Dear old Dr. Bathbone, wise in his generation and 
 big of heart I 
 
 [88f] 
 
 li!: 
 
XXXIX 
 
 Ax the btnk down in the Wlla|(e— well, tt nine 
 o^elodc Mortimer, feeling the yirtoe of early effort, 
 with the mon^ of redemption in his pocket, entered 
 into the rerampti(m of his dnties. 
 
 At the earliest moment after the Tanlt was opened 
 he made his way to the box that contained the Porter 
 payment. One thing troubled him slightly. It was a 
 thousand-dollar bill that had been taken; the money 
 he had to replace was in hundreds and fifties. As he 
 lapped them quietly into the box he thou^t it wouldn't 
 really matter; he would transfer the three thousand to 
 the account himself, and nobody would know of the 
 diange. Leaving the box where it was for a little, in the 
 way of subtle strat^Qr, he came out and busied himself 
 ofw other matters. 
 
 To Mortimer's slight astonishment, presently the 
 eaahier, Mr. Lane, came out from his office, and speak- 
 ing somewhat carelessly, said : "Mr. Mortimer, you have 
 tiiat Porter note and money in charge. It is due to- 
 day, isn't it r 
 
 Looking up, Mortimer saw Lane's eye fixed upon his 
 fuse witii piercing intensity. He flushed out of sheer 
 nervousness. 
 
 Tes, sir," he stammered, 'nt is. "Ill attend to it at 
 
 "Ah I" 
 
 there was a peculiar drawl in the cashier's 
 voice as he spoke; "ah, I had a co^imunication from 
 
 [888] 
 
THOBOUOHBREDS 
 
 Mr. Porter jesterday, asking if the note had been 
 paid.*'. 
 
 Mortimer felt his knees shake— something was chok- 
 ing him. Had the devil of mischance taken the salva- 
 tion of Alan's good name out of his hands— Jiad hit 
 work been for nothing. 
 
 "I couldn't understand it," went on the cashier. His 
 
 voice sounded like the dang of a fire bell to the listening 
 man, thon«^ it was evenly modulated, cold and steady 
 in Its methodical precision. "I thou^t Porter knew 
 the money was here to meet the note," said Lane, still 
 •peaking, 'a)ut my attention being caUed to the matter, 
 I looked up the papers. I found one thousand dollars 
 missing!" He was looking steadily at Mortimer; his 
 eyes weip seuxshing the youxig man's very soul. There 
 was aecusation, denunciation, abhonenoe in the 
 eashior's gase. 
 
 Mortimer did not speak. He was trying to think. His 
 brain worked in erratic fntiUty. The slangy babble of 
 Old Bin thrust itself upon him; the roar of the race 
 course was in his eai% deadening his senses; not a 
 lane, relevant word roeetohisUps. Hewaslikea 
 child stricken by fear. In an indistinct way he felt the 
 dishonor that was Alan Porter's being given to Imn. 
 
 The cashier waited for Mortimer to say some&iw; 
 then he spoke again, with reproach in his voice. 
 
 "I at once sent a messenger to ask you to nhan 
 from your home at Emerson to clear up this matter; 
 he discovered that you had not been there; HuA yow 
 
 mother was not ill. May I ask where you were vester- 
 day?" '' 
 
 "I was at Gravesend, sir— at the races," answered 
 Mortimer, defiantly. 
 
 [884] 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE 
 
 Thk ipesdi bioln tiie lethargy that was OTer him; 
 lea Bind deaied — ^he commenced to think sanelj. 
 
 ''Ctn you tdl me," proceeded Lane, 'Vheie the bal- 
 nat of Mr. Porter's three thoman d dollars isP' 
 
 •^a in the box/' 
 
 rrhaf 8 ar-it is not." 
 
 It's in the box," repeated Mortimer, firmly. 
 
 "We caa soon settle that point," declared the cashier, 
 going hnrriedly into the vault and reappearing in- 
 iteutly with the box in his hand. 
 
 He opened it and stared at the package of bills that 
 rose np when freed from the preeenre of the lid. Witk 
 murwwu ftsgeri he counted the contests. 
 
 1 b^ your pardon/' he exckimed in a quick, jerky 
 WKj. ^Ai three tiiousand di^rs is here, but thsae 
 Wis have been put in the box this morning ; they irere 
 ■ot there last night. It is not i^e money that was taken 
 awy, eitbar. That was one bill, a thousand-dollar 
 noie; ttoA bare are" — he ooonted them again — ^'^six 
 («e hundreds and eight fifties, besides tiie original two 
 of one thouaand Yam put those notes back, Mr. Mor- 
 taner " be snd, taffing the desk wiA two fingers of 
 tei^g^haad. 
 
 «Idid." 
 
 "AM Jim took 12ie money yesterday or iiie day 
 
 baOKBr 
 
 «I^«ot." 
 
 "Mkr Imae repeated in a drier, more severe tone 
 than he had used before. This <'Ah" of the cashier's, 
 with its many gradations of tone, had been a most 
 useful wnpon in hia innumerable financial battles. It 
 could be mm&e to mean anything — everything; flung 
 out at haphazard it always caught 'vis opponent off 
 
 [886] 
 
THOROUOHBREDS 
 
 ^1 !l!!!f/ "*'*^ ***""*' •"^ ^^^ <»• pond«.d 
 ow Sti poirible meuung, Lane oonld fonqnUj^ in hii 
 mind more deddye expmsioiu. 
 "Ah," he repeated, adding, «if you did not rteal the 
 
 JJ^t'Mr^^"^''^^'*^**^^*'^^^^ 
 
 c«^r Btood waiii^ his tall, .arrow head, topped by 
 ^my brushed gray hair, thrust forward in'^a? 
 titude of a parrot about to strike with its beak 
 
 I cant answer those questions,'* answered the man 
 he was grilhi^ "The money to pay Mr. Porter's note 
 w here; and I fancy that is all the bank needs to con- 
 oem Itself about. It was entrusted to me, and now I 
 ftm prepared to turn it oyer/' » —« uuw x 
 
 "Quite true; ah, yes, quite true; birt it might hayo 
 
 ^.'JJ^^K??"^. ^* ^ *^« ^^^ t»»*t™t con! 
 oems the bank. Whoever took ihe money»-«nd he 
 bowed, deprecatingly, with ironical consideration to 
 Mortimer— '*mu8t haye needed a thousand dollars foi^ 
 well, some specmlatiye purpose, perhaps. Good for- 
 tune has enabled the some one to make good, and the 
 mcmey has been replaced." o , « •«. 
 
 pe cashier straightened up, threw his head baok. 
 and actuaUy smiled. He had scored linguistically--nbT 
 a deyer manipulation of the sentence he had made tli 
 «mie one who had stolen the money the some one who 
 who had replaced it. That was accusation by inference. 
 If you hke. Am the other did not speak. Lane added.- 
 1 win wire for Mr. Crane to come at once; this 
 IS a matter for inyestigation." 
 
 Mortimer bowed his head in acquiesenoe; what 
 could he say— what other stand could the bank take? 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE 
 
 Ton might remain at yonr deik,'* the cashier laid, 
 If there is any mistake well disoorer it, no donbt/' 
 
 Mortimer felt like one dead, indeed as a dishonored 
 man he were better dead. The bank was like a manso- 
 leum, and he a lost spirit haunting its precincts in qnest 
 of the ondefiled body that had been his but yesterday. 
 Cass, the teller, certainly shunned him as he would a 
 leper. Lane, mdictively pleased that he had unearthed 
 the villain, drew his small soul into a shell of cold, 
 studious politeness ; much as a sea spider might house 
 his unpleasant body in a discarded castle of pink and 
 white. 
 
 Alan Porter was late— he had not come yet. Mor- 
 timer waited in suffering suspense for his appearance. 
 What would come of it all. Now that the money was 
 replaced, if the boy admitted his guilt to Crane, prob- 
 ably no further action would be taken, but he would be 
 didionored in the sight of his employer. Mortimer 
 had sought to avert this; had not denounced Alan in 
 the first instance; by good fortune had been able to 
 replace the money; even now had refused to divulge 
 the name of the tiiief . He was well aware of the mass 
 of circumstantial evidence, the outcome of his own 
 hurried actions, that pointed to himself as the guilty 
 one. Better this than that he should denounce the boy. 
 Dishonor to the lad might kill his father; for Morti- 
 mer was well aware of the doctor's edict. And Allis, 
 the girl he loved as his life, would hang her h^ in 
 shame for evermore. He was anxious to see Alan 
 before the cashier did ; he did not want the boy to deity 
 taking the money at first, as he might do if he were 
 unaware of the circumstances; it would place him in 
 a wrong light 
 
 [8871 
 
THOBOUOHBREDS 
 
 JMt- before twdre Al«n Porter came liQRieaif In. 
 He had miiaed hia train the night before, he ttnSained 
 to a general way to aU. Mortimer atenped up to him 
 •toioit at once, speaking with low, eamett rnkiditf; 
 tte cashier was in his own oflice and Mr. Cass was not 
 within earshot 
 
 '1 put the money back, but its loss had been dis- 
 oorered yoterday. I have been accused of taking it, 
 Dnt have denied it, accnsing no one. I want you to 
 •ay that you borrowed it, thinking it no great hum, aa 
 It was your father's money." 
 
 -M^mfi ^7;,^*«"?Pted ^> but Mortimer said, 
 "Wait till I finish,^' and then continued: 'Tliere will be 
 wthing done to you, I feel sure, if you wiU take this 
 stand, because of jom father's connection with Crane. 
 It will save me from dnhonoi^— " 
 '*Mr. Porter." 
 
 It was the cashier's voice of Damascus steel cuttinjr in 
 on Mortimer's low, pleading tones. 
 
 AUn turned his head, and Mr. Lane, beckoning, said, 
 •^illyoustepintomyofficeforaminuter 
 
 Tbe cashiert one minute drew its weary length into 
 
 thir^; Mid when Alan Porter came out again, Mortimer 
 •aw the boy sou^t to avoid him. Had he denied takinir 
 tile mcmey? My GodI the fuU horror of MoriSae?? 
 
 hopeless position flashed upon him like the lurid lirfit of 
 a datooying forest fire. He could read in every iSie of 
 tteb^'s face an accusation of himself. He had trem- 
 Wed wh«i It was a question of Alan's dishonor; now that 
 ^e i^ommy was being thrust upon him, the bravery 
 
 that he possessed m great part made him a hero. If 
 trough his endeavor to save the boy he was to shoulder 
 the guilt, not of his own volition, but without heme of 
 
 [W8] ^ 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE 
 
 mmpB, he would itaad to it like a man. What Would it 
 pnAt him to denoimce the boy. 
 
 Haridng back with rapi^ty orer his actions, and 
 Ala^'t, he saw that eyerything implicated him. Once 
 he l^ni^t of his mother and wavered; but she would 
 beilere him if he said he had not committed this dread- 
 fnl crime. But all Hhe world of Brookfleld wonld despise 
 tiw name of ha son if it were thought that he had sought 
 to testify hlsAy against his f riei^ And was not Alan 
 tiie brother of Allis? 
 
 Mentally his aigoment, his analysis of the proper 
 eeurse to pursue was tortuoud, not definable, or to be ex- 
 plained in c(»ene phraseology ; but the one thought that 
 fMe pwramount over aU others was, that he must take his 
 kaquitous punishment like a man. He had fought so 
 strongly to dMd the brother of the girl he loved that 
 the cause in all its dq^^dation had accrued to him. 
 
 At one o'doek ihe president. Crane, arrived from New 
 Tori:, and in him was bitterness because of his yestw- 
 ity'sdefei^ He had sat nearly the whole night thn^^ 
 mentally submerged in the double happening that had 
 tm&pi many men from tiM chess board. Lauaanne, tha 
 despised, had Irept from his hand a small fortune, evm 
 when his fiagora seorod tightening on the coin, too. 
 That was one happening. John Porter had gained over 
 twonty thousand ddlars. This made him quite ind»> 
 pend^t of Crane's financial bolstering. The Banker's 
 diplfloiacy of love had been weakened. That was tlra 
 other happei^ig. 
 
 Crane vrats doseted with the cashier not more than ten 
 minutes when Mortimer was asked to join the two men 
 who had so sudd^y beoome deeply interested in his 
 affairs. 
 
 [888] 
 
TH0B0U0HBBED8 
 
 Tht eMhitr'i hud had been itrtQgthaiMld hj Ona^t 
 oontribntion of eridenoe. If ortiintr had toli ^ aaaa 
 f aliehood about hii mother bdng ill to him at tha noe 
 oouw. From Alan the oaahier had laanwd that ICorti- 
 mer had been betting hearily ; he had admitted to the hoj 
 that he had won enough to replace the thonaaad ddlan 
 he had itoIoL If ortimer'i words had been contorted 
 into that reading in their joomey throng two peraonal- 
 itiet. He had cTen begged yonng Porter not to ipeak of 
 hii betting transactions. He had denied taking the 
 monej^-that was but natural; he had been fozoed to 
 admit replacing it-^that was condudm Indeed it 
 seemed a waste of time to iuTestigate further; it was 
 utteriy impossible to doubt his guOi Heeh bj mesh, 
 like an enthralling net, all the different threads of oon- 
 Tieting circumstances were drawn about the accused 
 
 . "Lot us que6ti<m himT said Crane; and in his heart 
 wie not sorrow, nor hate, nor compassion, ncnr anytiiing 
 but just joy. Greater than the infiiMnoe of numqr in 
 h» love ambition would be this degradation, this reduc- 
 ing to a f eloi a man he felt stood between him and 
 AUis Porter. 
 
 Yesterday they had won; to-day victory, ahncst, to 
 hfan had come. Yes, bring the deliTerar in; he would 
 feast his eyes, the narrow-lidded eyes, upon the man 
 whose young love might hare conquered over aU his 
 diplomacy, and who would go forth from his hands 
 bnaded as a fdmt 
 
 The probing of the already condemned man elicited 
 nothing beyond a repeated denial of theft. With the 
 precision of Ham'sdle Guillotine, Cashier Loie lopped 
 off everything that could possibly stand in Mortimer's 
 
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE 
 
 i, grafting into the eletfed plaoM indiTidnal licti 
 idiidi oonfirmed hif guilt Mortimer contended noth- 
 iatg^ tlireir taipieion upon no one. Wu it Alan Porter? 
 Waa it Oaia?— bat that was impoaiible. Wat it the 
 aaahiwr himaelf? Still more impoenUe. Mortimer 
 auwered nothing. H* had not taken the money. Tee, 
 ha had replaced it — became he was responsiUe for its 
 euatody. 
 
 ''Cant yon see," cried Crane, impatiently, "that this 
 simple denial of yonrs is of no ralne aa against so much 
 that points to your — ** he hesitated— "yonr implica- 
 tioiir 
 
 [«41I 
 
Whiu If ortfaner wm itill in the cMhier^i improriMd 
 inqniiition room, AUis Porter came into the l»Mi^ to 
 •rrenge the payment of her father's note. 
 
 The nmthine leemed to oome with her into the ooont- 
 ing home that was all gloom. Her glorious raooetfi, the 
 consequent improyement in her father, the power to pay 
 off his ^debtedness— all these had tuned that day into 
 a day of th anlrfn IneB S. The happiness that was in her 
 rippled her face into smiles. 'VHien the door creaked 
 on its hinges as it swung open, she laughed. It was a 
 thriftless old door, such as bachelors kept, she mur- 
 mured. Her brother's face, gloomy bdiind the iron 
 screen, tickled her fancy. **Tou*re like a caged bear, 
 Alan," she cried, with a smile of impertinence; **l 
 should hate to be shut up a day like this— no wonder 
 you're cross, brother." 
 
 "I'm busy," he answered, curtly. 'Til see you after 
 bank hours. Sis; I want to see you." 
 
 'Tre oome to pay father's note, busy-man-of-impor- 
 tance," she flung back, with the swagger of a capitalist 
 "Ifspaid,Allis." 
 TaidI I thought— " 
 
 "Wait, 111 come out ;*' and opening a door in the rail, 
 he passed around to the girl. 
 
 Tattler's note is paid," he resumed, **hxLt there's fierce 
 trouble orer it. Crane left the money, three thousand 
 dollars, with Mortimer, and he stole"— the boy's voice 
 
 [MS] 
 
CHAPTER VOWn 
 
 knpntd to A Immm whifpef^-^t thooMiid of it to bot ti 
 Chwfiitnd.'' 
 
 Thafi not tnw, Alan; God knows iff ooitnie. Ifor- 
 timer wouldn't ftetL" 
 
 Tm, he did," penittod th« brother, "and he begged 
 of me to take the blame. He taid it would ruin him, bnt 
 that Crane wouldn't do anything to me. ne'e a Tile, 
 aneaUng thief , AlUi r 
 
 '^nah, Alan; don't lay that Ifs all aome dreadful 
 niatake. The money will be found somewhere/' 
 
 It haa been found; Mortimer put it back. Why 
 ihonld he rq>laoe the money if he had not stolen it V* 
 
 ''Where is Ur. Mortimer, Alan?" 
 
 The boy pointed with his thumb to the door of the 
 cashier's oflBoe. ''Crane's in there, too. I hope Mortimer 
 owns up. He can't do anything else; they caught him 
 putting the money back." 
 
 AUis remembeced that she had seen Mortimw on the 
 race course. 
 
 .<lCr. Mortimer doesn't bet," she said. 
 
 Tee, he does; he did yesteorday, anyway ; and when he 
 saw that I knew about it, he b^^ged me to say nothing — 
 praetieaUy admitted that he had taken the money, and 
 was going to put it back." 
 
 *n^y should he tdl you that, Alanr 
 
 **I don't know, unless he feared it mig^t be found out 
 while he was away; or, perhiq;)s he was so OEdted OTer 
 winning a thousand ddlara that he didnH know what he 
 wiasa^. At any rate, he took it rij^t enoi^ Allis, 
 and you oug^t to cut him." 
 
 '1 shaVt do that He's innocent I know he is— I 
 den^ eave whM they say. If he reidaoed the money, it 
 WM to ddeld the man who took it" She was kxddng 
 
 [848] 
 
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mx aocan ■m o u i i ipn im chart 
 
 (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 
 
 1.0 
 
 
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 \2M 123 
 
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 jM 
 
 
 y^PPUED Is/MGE Ine 
 
 KadwMw^ NMrjnHk 14«0» USA 
 
 8 
 
 H» 4Ri- 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 searchingly into her brother's eyes — ^not that she was ac- 
 cusing him of the theft, she was just searching for the 
 truth. 
 
 "Do you mean it was to shield me — ^that I took it? 
 No one could have taken the money except Mortimer or 
 myself." 
 
 **I don't know," answered the girl, wearily; "it's all 
 so terribly new ; I only know that Mortimer did not steal 
 it." 
 
 While she was still speaking, the accused man came 
 from the cashier's office, holding his head as erect as an 
 Indian, not at all as a half-convicted felon should havo 
 slunk through the door ; yet withal in his face was a look 
 of troubled gravity. 
 
 When ^Mortimer saw Allis his face flushed, then went 
 pale in an instant He felt that she knew ; he had seen 
 her talking earnestly to her brother. Probably she, too, 
 would think him a thief. He admitted to himself that 
 the evidence was sufficient to destroy anyone's faith in 
 his innocence, and he was helpless, quite helpless ; he was 
 limited to simple denial, unless he accused her brother; 
 even had he been so disposed, there was nothing to back 
 up a denunciation of the boy. He felt a twinge of pain 
 over Alan's ingratitude; the latter must know that he 
 had put his neck in a noose to save him. Now that one 
 of them needs be dishonored, why did not Alan prove 
 himself a man, a Porter — ^they were a hero breed — and 
 accept the gage of equity. Even worse, Alan was shield- 
 ing himself behind this terrible bulwark of circumstan- 
 tial evidence which topped him, the innocent one, on 
 every side. 
 
 As he resumed his place at his desk dose to the brother 
 and sister, Alan looked defiantly at him. He coidd see in 
 
 [344] 
 

 CHAPTER FORTY 
 
 the boy's eyes malignant detestation, a glimmer of 
 triumph, as though he felt that Mortimer was irrevoca- 
 bly in the toils. The lad was like a strippling Judas ; 
 his aiititude filled Mortimer with loathing. He stole a 
 look into the girl's face. Would she, too, say with her 
 eyes, "Behold, here is Barabbas !" 
 
 A thrill of ecstatic comfoit warmed his being. In 
 Allis's eyes was the first touch of kindness he had known 
 in this hour of trial; faith, and sorrow, and cheer, and 
 love were all there, striving for mastery; no furtive 
 weakening, no uncertain questioning, no remonstrance 
 of reproval — nothing but just unlimited faith and love. 
 If the boy's look had angered him, had caused him to 
 waver, had made the Sf'*-sacrifice seem too great when 
 repaid with ingratitude, all these thoughts vanished in 
 an instant, obliterated by that one look of unalterable 
 love. In the hour of darkness the girl stood by him, and 
 he would also stand firm. She would believe in him, and 
 his sacrifice would be as nothing. He had undertaken to 
 avert the sorrow of dishonor from her, from her brother, 
 from her parents, and he would continue to the end. He 
 would tell no one on earth but his mother the full truth ; 
 she must know. Then with the faith of the two women 
 he loved, still his, he could brave the judgment of all 
 others. Perhaps not willingly in the first place would 
 be have taken upon himself the brand of Barrabas, but 
 out of good motive he had incurred it. 
 
 Mortimer heard the brother say, "I think you had 
 better not,'* then the girl's voice, clear and decisive, 
 answering, "I will, I must." 
 
 In anger Alan left his sister's side, and she, stepping 
 up to the wicket, said, **Will you please come out for a 
 minute, Mr. Mortimer, I want to speak with you." 
 
 [346] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 He paued around to her side. Crane and the cashier 
 ▼ere atill closeted in the hitter's office. 
 
 "Let ns go out into ^e sunshine/' AUis said. "Can 
 you— -will it make any difference ?*' 
 
 "I don't think it matters much," he answered, de- 
 spondently; '^things are a« bad as they can be, I sup- 
 
 He took it for granted that she knew eyerything; but 
 he was possessed of no shame, no diffidence, no reserve; 
 he was innocent, and htr eyes had assured him that she 
 knew it. As they passed through the door it creaked 
 again on its dry hinges. Before she had laughed at the 
 weird complaining; now it sounded like a moan of 
 misery. Outside the viUage street was deserted; there 
 was no one to listen. 
 
 "What is this dreadful thing all about r and she laid 
 ^hand onhis arm in agestureof amity, of association. 
 Her touch thrilled him; she had never gone that length 
 in friendly demonstration before. He marveled at her 
 generous faith. AU but dishonored, the small, strong 
 hand lifted him to a pedestal— her eyes deified him. 
 
 "A thousand dollars was stolen from the bank, and I 
 am accused of taking it," he answered, bitterly. 
 
 "You didn't, did you ? I know you didn% but I want 
 to hear you say so." 
 
 He looked full into the girl's eye, and answered with 
 deliberate earnestness, "I did not steal the money " 
 
 "Some one took it r 
 
 Tea." 
 
 "And you know who it was ?" 
 
 '*I do not" 
 
 "But you suspect some one?" 
 He did not answer. 
 
 [846] 
 
CHAPTER FORTY 
 
 **Did y<ra put the money back ?*' f 
 
 He nodded his head. 
 
 '^To protect somebody's good name ?*' 
 
 "Because it had been in my charge. I can't talk about 
 it,'' he broke in, vehemently; ''all I can say is, that I am 
 innocent. If you believe that I don't care what they do. 
 They'll be able to prove by circumstantial evidence that 
 I took it/' he added, bitterly, "and nothing that I can 
 say will make any difference. My mother won't believe 
 me guilty, and, thank God, you don't ; and I am not ; God 
 knows I am not Beyond that I will say nothing; it is 
 useless — worse than useless ; it would be criminal — ^would 
 only cast suspicion on others, perhaps innocent I don't 
 know what they'll do about it; the money has been re- 
 paid. They may arrest me as a felon — at any rate I shall 
 be forced to leave the bank and go away. It won't make 
 much difference— I am as I was before, an honest man, 
 and I shall find other openings. If s not half so hard 
 as I thought it would be; I feared perhaps that you — " 
 
 She stopped him with an imploring gesture. 
 
 'Tjet me finish," he said. 'T must go back to the 
 office. I thought that you might believe me a thief, and 
 that would have been too mu(£." 
 
 '*You cared for my poor opinion?" she asked. The 
 quiver in her voice caused him to look into her face; he 
 saw the gray eyes shrouded in tears. He was a queer 
 tiiief, trembling with joy because of his sin. 
 
 **Tes, I care," he answered ; "and it seemed all so dark 
 before you brought the sunlight in with you; now I'm 
 glad that they've accused me; somebody eLse might have 
 suffered and had no one to believe in him. But I must 
 go back to— my prison it seems like now — ^when I leave 
 you f this with a weary attempt at brave mockery. 
 
 [847] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 Allis laid a detaining hand on his arm, the gmaU 
 gloved hand that had guided Lauzanne to victory. ^ 
 anything happens, if you are going away— I think you 
 are nght to go if they distrust you— you will see me be- 
 fore you leave, won't you ?" 
 
 ♦vTi? ^Z °"® *° ^ ^^ ^^ ^ «*»"d branded aa a 
 k 7ix 1-, ® ^^^^ ^*™® ^^^7 ^'^^y ^"t in his acridity 
 he felt like not sparing himself; he wanted to get accus- 
 tomed to the full obloquy. 
 
 "Promise me to come to Bingwood before goinir 
 away," she answered. * 
 
 4.J*^?'J ^^' «nd I thank you. No matter how dark 
 the shadow may make my life your kindness will be h 
 hope Lght. No man is utterly lost when a good woman 
 believes in him." 
 
 The creaking bank door wailed tremulously, irritably 
 somebody was pushing it open from the inside. With 
 a whine of remonstrance it swung wider, and Crane 
 stepped oui on the sidewalk. He stared in astonishment 
 at Mortimer and AlHs, his brow wrinkled in anger. Only 
 lor aninstant; the forehead smoothed back into its nor- 
 mal placidity and his voice, well in hand, said, in even 
 tones: "Good afternoon, Miss Porter. Are you goin« 
 back to Bingwood r and he nodded toward Allis's buggy! 
 "Yes, I am. I'm going now. Good day, Mr. Morti- 
 mer," and she held out her hand. 
 
 Mortimer hesitated, and then, flushing, took the 
 gloved fingers in his own. Without speaking, he turned 
 and passed into the bank. 
 
 "May I go with you?" asked Crane; «I want to see 
 your father." 
 
 'TTes, I shall be glad to drive you over," the mrl 
 answered. ® 
 
 [348] 
 
XLI 
 
 
 Whbn they had passed the edge of the village the 
 Banker said : "I doubt if you would have shaken hands 
 with Mr. Mortimer if you knew — I mean, he is under 
 strong suspicion, more than strong suspicion, for he is 
 practically self-accused of having stolen a sum of 
 money from the bank. In fact, I'm not sure that it 
 wasn't from your father he really stole it." 
 
 "I do know of this terrible thing," she answered. 
 "I shook hands with him because I believe him in- 
 nocent." 
 
 "You know more than we do?" It was not a sneer; 
 if so, too delicately veiled for detection; the words 
 were uttered in a tone of hopeful inquiry. 
 
 "Mr. Mortimer could not steal — it is impossible." 
 
 "Have you sufficient grounds for your faith — do you 
 happen to know who took the money, for it was stolen?" 
 
 The girl did not answer at once. At first her stand 
 had simply been one of implicit faith in the man she 
 had conjured into a hero of all that was good and 
 noble. She had not cast about. for extenuating evi- 
 dence; she had not asked herself who the guilty man 
 was; her faith told her it was morally impossible for 
 Mortimer to become a thief. Now Crane's questions, 
 more material than the first deadening effects of Alan's 
 accusation, started her mind on a train of thought deal- 
 ing with motive possibilities. 
 
 She knitted her small brows, and tapping the jogging 
 
 [ 349 ] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 howe*i quarter with the whip gat for mtor minntet 
 •ilently absorbed. 
 
 Her companion waited for an answer with his nsnal 
 weU-bred patience. Perhaps the girl had not heard 
 hun. Perhaps she did not wish to answer a question so 
 unanswerable. He waited. 
 
 Mortimer, being innocent, replaced the stolen money. 
 AJlis s mmd tabulated— she tickled this thought off on 
 ^ horse with her whip— it was to shield some one. 
 Her heart told her, his eyes had told her, that he would 
 have taken upon himself this great risk but for one 
 person, her brother. Yes, Mortimer was a hero 1 The 
 horse, lazily going, jumped a little in the traces; she 
 had stpuck,him a harder tap with the whip. Allis con- 
 tinued her mental summing up. Why did Mortimer 
 go to Gravesend? It must have been to see Alan— the 
 boy was there. If he had discovered that the money 
 TO missing, and thought Alan had taken it, he would 
 do this J if he had suspected some other person he 
 would have made the matter known to the cashier. He 
 did not replace the money at once, because he hadn't it. 
 She knew that Mortimer was poor. He had failed to 
 find Alan until after Lauzanne's victorv; her brother 
 had told her this much, and that Mortimer had won a 
 lot of money over the horse. Why he had bet on Lau- 
 zanne she knew not; perhaps Providence had guided, 
 had helped him that much. But surely that was the 
 money, his winnings, with which he had replaced the 
 thousand dollars. 
 
 The girl's mind had worked methodically, following 
 sequence of action to sequence, until finally the convic- 
 tion that Mortimer had sought to shield her brother, 
 «nd chance or Providence working through herself 
 
 [850] 
 
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE 
 
 P ! 
 
 and Lauzanne had placed in his hands the neoesaary 
 funds, came to her as fixedly as though the whole past 
 panorama of events lay pictured before her eyes. 
 
 She saw all this mentally; but would it avail any- 
 thing in actuality? If the boy disclaimed guilt, as he 
 had; if Mortimer limited his defense to a simple de- 
 nial, refusing to implicate her brother, yrhat could she 
 do except give her moral support? To her it seemed 
 •nch a small reward for his heroism; her faith would 
 not save him from the brand of felony, and to follow out 
 her convictions publicly she must denounce her brother, 
 cast upon him the odium of theft. Truly her position 
 was one of extreme hopelessness. Two men she loved 
 stood before her mentally, one accused of others as a 
 thief, and one — ^her own brother — charged by her reason 
 with the crime. 
 
 Under the continued silence Crane grew restless ; the 
 girl, almost oblivious of his presence, deep in the in- 
 tricacies of the crime, gave no sign of a desire to pursue 
 the discussion. 
 
 ''Of course I am anxious to clear the young man if 
 he is innocent,*' hazarded the banker, to draw her 
 gently back into the influence that he felt must be of 
 profit to himself. This assertion of Crane's was only 
 assimilatively truthful. As president of the bank, 
 naturally he should wish to punish none other than the 
 guilty man ; as a rival to Mortimer for the girl's affec- 
 tion, he could not but be pleased to see the younger 
 man removed from his path, and in a way which would 
 forever preclude his aspiring to Allis's hand. Believe 
 in Mortimer as she might, he felt sure that she would 
 not run counter to the inevitable wishes of her mother 
 and marry a man who stood publicly branded as a thief. 
 
 [851] 
 
 ^ il 
 
THOROUOHBREDS 
 
 Allit answered his observation— he dUtinctl.v felt the 
 vibration of pain in her voice — with a itar^.'ing depth 
 of analytical discernment : 
 
 '*While I believe in Mortimer's innocence, and will 
 always believe in it, I am afraid that he has drawn such 
 a web of circumstantial evidence about him, trying to 
 hield some one else, that— that— it is too terrible!" 
 she broke off, passionately- "he ia innocent. For God's 
 sake, Mr. Crane"— she took the reins in her whip hand, 
 and put her left on his arm, pleadingly— "for Ctod's 
 sake, for his mother's sake, save him. You can do it — 
 you can believe that he is innocent, and stop every- 
 thing. The money has been paid back." 
 
 *1t isn't that. Miss Allis"- his voice was so cuttingly 
 even after the erratic pump of her oytn — "in a bank 
 one must not have a dishonest person. We must inves- 
 tigate to the end, and if Mortimer can clear himself by 
 fastening the crime upon the perpetrator — ** 
 
 **He will never do that; he cannot if he would." 
 
 **What can I do then, Miss Allis? But why shouldn't 
 her 
 
 "Can't you see — don't you understand the man? He 
 commenced by shielding some one, and he will carry it 
 through to the bitter end." 
 
 **I am afraid there was no one to shield but himself— 
 everything points to this conclusion. The money was 
 locked up, he had the keys, no one touched them — ex- 
 cept your brother, and that but for a minute— but if 
 any suspicion could attach to your brother it is all dis- 
 sipated by Mortimer's subsequent actions. Ifs un- 
 pleasant to even hint at such a contingency, but if 
 Mortimer is innocent, then your brother must be the 
 guilty one." 
 
 [ 35S ] 
 
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE 
 
 He expected the girl to denounce indignantly inch a 
 • -•; ibility; he was surprised that she remained silent. 
 He. non-refutation of this deduction told him as con- 
 clusively as though she had uttered the accusation tliat 
 ihe thought Alan had taken the money and Mortimer 
 was shielding him. It was but a phase of blind love; 
 it was the faith women place in men they love, of which 
 he had read and scotfed at. 
 
 Against all evidence she was holding this man honest, 
 beheving her brother the thief. 
 
 Surely a love like that was worth winning ; no price 
 was too great to pay. Her very faith in Mortinier, 
 through which she sought to save him by inspiring 
 Crane, determined the latter to crush utterly the man 
 who stood between him and this great love. Intensity 
 of hate, or love, or cupidity, never drew Crane out of 
 his inherent diplomacy; he took refuge behind the 
 brother of AUis. 
 
 "You see," he said, and his voice was modulated with 
 kindness, "I can't save Mortimer except at the expense 
 of Alan; you would not have me do th»»t. Besides, it 
 is impossible — ^the evidence shines as clear as noon- 
 day." 
 
 "If you bring this home to Mr. Mortimer you will 
 
 punish him, arrest him ?" 
 
 **That would be the usual course." 
 
 She had taken her hand oflE his arm; now she re- 
 placed it, and he could feel the strong fingers press as 
 though she would hold him to her wishes. 
 
 ^'You will not do this," she said, "for my sake you 
 will not." 
 
 '*You ask this of me, and it is for your sake?" 
 
 **Ye8, if there is no other way; if Mr. Mortimer, in- 
 
 [ 853 ] 
 
 
 1 
 
TH0R0U0HBRED8 . 
 
 noont, miut take upon hiouelf this crime, thti for my 
 Mke yon will not punish him." 
 
 The gray eyei were violet-black in their intenaity. 
 
 **If I promiee— " He had been going to aek for re- 
 ward, but she broke in, saying: **You will keep your 
 word, and I will bless you." 
 
 ''Nothing more— is that allT 
 
 The magnetism of the intense eyes broke down his 
 reserve; he slipped back twenty years in a second. 
 Love touched him with a flre-wand, and his soul ignited 
 (Jold, pauionless Philip Crane spoke in a tongue, nn- 
 famili^ as it was to him, that carried conviction to the 
 girl— just the conviction that he was in earnest, that he 
 was possessed of a humanizing love. She listened pa- 
 tiently while he pleaded his cause with much mastery. 
 It was beyond her understanding, that, though Morti- 
 mer through all time had spoken not at all of love to 
 her— at least not in the passionate words that came from 
 this man's lips— yet she now heard as though it were 
 his voice and not Crane's. Love was a fflorioua thinff— 
 with Mortimer. ^ 
 
 Crane's intensity availed nothing. When he asked 
 why she held faith to a man who must be known for all 
 time as a thief, her soul answered, "It is nothing---be- 
 cause he is innocent." 
 
 Because of her Crane would do anything; the matter 
 should be dropped as though it were all a hideous mis- 
 take. Mortimer might remain in the bank; his em- 
 ployer would even tiy to believe him innocent, taking 
 the girl's protestation as conclusive proof. Her 
 mother, her father, everyone would demand of her, 
 however, that she give the dishonest one up as a possi- 
 bility. Even in his vehemence he lost no delicacy of 
 
 [854] 
 
CHAPTER PORTY-ONE 
 
 Why ihonld she chtin henelf to an impoMi- 
 It wonid bat rain the man ihe profened to 
 
 iooeh. 
 
 bUity? 
 
 xvgard. 
 
 The banker made no threat, but Allii shuddered. 
 She knew. The narrow-lidded eyes had cloeed percep- 
 tibly when their owner talked of the alternatiTe. He, 
 Crane, loved her— ehe felt that waa true. He wae rich ; 
 for her father, for her brother, for henelf, eten for 
 Mortimer, he would uie bis wealth. He pleaded his 
 cause like a strong man, and when he spoke of failure 
 . because of her preference for Mortimer, an acridity 
 crept into his voice that meant relentless prosecution. 
 
 She could not hold this full power over Crane with- 
 out feeling its value. To pledge herself to him as wife 
 was impossible; she could not do it; she would not. 
 Fate played into his hands without doubt, but Fate was 
 not Providence. A decree of this sort, iniquitous, was 
 not a higher command, else she would not feel utter 
 abhorrence of the alliance. Paradoxically the more 
 vehemently Crane's love obtraded itself the more ob- 
 noxious it became; it was something quite distinct 
 from the man's own personality. She did not detest 
 him individually, for the hones^ of his love impressed 
 her; mentally she separated Crane from his affection, 
 and while rejecting his love absolutely as a compelling 
 factor, appealed to him as a man having regurd for 
 her, a woman he believed in. 
 
 It was a most delicate cleavage, yet unerringly she 
 attdned to its utmost point of discrimination. Perhaps 
 it was the strength of her love for Mortimer that en- 
 abled her to view so calmly this passionate declaration. 
 A year before, unsophisticated as she had been, it would 
 have t-irown her into an agitated confusion, but she 
 
 [855] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS V ' 
 
 was developing rapidly; responsibility had tempered 
 fine the great will power which was hers in such a 
 marked degriee. 
 
 "I am sorry, Mr. Crane," she began, conventionally 
 enough, "I am sorry; I couldn't marry a man Without 
 loving him. What you have just told me must win re- 
 gard for you, because I know that you feel strongly, 
 and I think any woman should take an oflfer of honest 
 love as the greatest of all compliments." 
 
 **But I don't even ask for your love now," he inter- 
 rupted. 
 
 "Ah) but you should. You sliouldn't marry a woman 
 imless she loves you. At any rate I feel that way about 
 It. Of course, if there were a chance of my coming to 
 care for you in that way we could wait, but it would 
 be deceiving you to give hope." 
 
 **I8 it because you care for Mortimer?" he asked. 
 
 **I think it is. I suppose if I am to help him I must 
 be quite honest with you. I do not want to talk about 
 it— it seems too sacred. I have even spoken less to Mr 
 Mortimer of love," she added, with a painful attempt 
 at a smile. 'TTou have said that you care for me, Mr. 
 Crane, and I believe you; you have been generous to 
 my father, also. Now won't you promise me something, 
 just for the sake of this regard? I suppose it is im- 
 possible to prove Mr. Mortimer's innocence"— she 
 felt her own helplessness, and who else could or would 
 care to accomplish it— **but it is in your power to lessen 
 the evil. Won't you take my word that he is innocent 
 and stop everything? As you say, either he or Alan 
 must be suspected, and if it were brought home to 
 my brother it would crush me, and my mother and 
 father." 
 
 [S56] 
 
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE 
 
 **What can I do?" 
 
 "Juflt nothing. I know Mr. Mortimer hag deter- 
 mined to accept the disgrace, and he will go away. 
 Ton can make his load as light as possible, for my 
 
 sake." 
 
 The small hand on his arm was drawing him to ac- 
 qniesence. He did not answer at once, but sat moodily 
 diagnosing his position. If he refused and prosecuted 
 Mortimer, the girl, more determined than many men, 
 would change from a state of possibility, from simply 
 not loving him, to a vigorous hate. If he hushed the 
 matter up Mortimer would go away under a cloud, and 
 his removal from the presence of AUis might effect a 
 change in her regard. He would accelerate this wished- 
 for elision of love by procuring absolutely indisputable 
 proof of Mortimer's dishonesty. He saw his opening to 
 that end ; he could do it under the guise of clearing the 
 innocent one of the suspected two ; for AUis alone this 
 would be. To him there was not the slightest ground 
 for supposing Alan had taken the money, but blinded 
 by her love, evidently Allis thought Mortimer was 
 shielding her brother. Though it was to Crane's best 
 interests, he pretended to consent out of pure chivalry. 
 **What you ask," he said, "is very little; I would do a 
 thousand times more for you. There is nothing you 
 could ask of me that would not give me more pleasure 
 than anything else in my barren life. But I could not 
 bear to see you wedded to Mortimer ; he is not worthy — 
 you are too good for him. I don't say this because he 
 is more fortunate, but I love you and want to see you 
 happy." 
 
 TTie girl was like a slim poplar. The strong wind of 
 Cnme's clever pleading and seeming generosity swayed 
 
 [867] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS ^ 
 
 her from her rigid attitude only to spring back again, 
 to stand straight and beantiful, troe to her love and 
 faith in Mortimer. 
 
 'HTott are kind to me" she said, simply; ^ wish I 
 conld repay you/* 
 
 'Terhaps some day I may get a reward oat of all 
 proportion to this small serrice." 
 
 She looked fair into his eyes, and on her lips hovered 
 a weak, plaintive, wistfnl smile, as though she were 
 wishing he could accept the inevitable and take her 
 regard, her gratitude, her good opinion of him and not 
 wed hims^ to a chimera which would bring only weari- 
 ness of spirit in return for his goodness. 
 
 **You will be repaid some day," she answered, "for I 
 feel that Mr. Mortimer's name will be cleared, and you 
 will be glad that you acted generously.*' 
 
 '^ell, this will give him a better chance,** he said, 
 evasively; "it*s not good to crush a man when he*s 
 down. I will see that no one connected with the bank 
 shows him the slightest disrespect. Of course he*ll 
 have to go, he couldn*t remain under the circumstances 
 —he wouldn*t.** 
 
 The horse had jogged slowly. Allis had purposely 
 allowed the old Bay to take his time. Unused to sudi a 
 tolerance he had scandalously abused the privilege; 
 once or twice he had even cast longing glances at a 
 fucoulent bunch of grass growing by the roadside, as 
 though it were a pure waste of opportunity to n^^ect 
 the delicacy for work when he had to do with nidi 
 indifferent overseers. But now Bingwood was in sight, 
 and there was still the matter of the money that had 
 been paid on her father*s note to speak of. She asked 
 Crane whne it had come from. 
 
 [«583 
 
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE 
 
 **YoTi won it over Diablo in the Brooklyn Handicap/' 
 he answered, bluntly. - j . 
 
 *Toii won it/* she corrected him; "I refuged to 
 
 •coept it/* „, 
 
 «I remember that eccentricity/* he repUed. **I m a 
 baiy man, and having the money thrown back on my 
 handa, as it was not mine, caused me considerable in- 
 convenience. I deposited three thousand of it against 
 the note to save both your father and myself needless 
 worry. There are still some hundreds due you, and I 
 wish you would please tell me what I am to do with it.** 
 *Td rather pay you back the three thousand now.** 
 "I can*t accept it. I have enough money of my own 
 to worry along on.** 
 
 <*Well, I wash my hands of the whole affair. When 
 father ^ts stronger he must settle it.** 
 They had turned into the drive to Bingwood House. 
 "We are home now,** she added, "and I want to say 
 again that I'U never forget your kind promise. I know 
 you will not repent of your goodness.** 
 
 Mrs. Porter saw Allis and Crane together in the 
 buggy; it pleased the good woman vastly. Allis*8 suc- 
 cess with Lauzanne had taken a load from her spiritf 
 She was not mercenary, but there had been so much * 
 stake. Now in one day Providence had averted dis- 
 aster, and she had awakened from a terrible nightmare 
 of debt. The sunshine of success had warmed her hua- 
 band*s being into hopeful activity, a brightness waa 
 over his spirits that had not been there for months. It 
 was like an augury of completed desire that Crane 
 should come the day of their good fortune with Allis. 
 If she would but marry him there would be little left 
 to worry about. So it was that Crane, perplexed by his 
 
 [869] 
 
 ■1 
 
 Mi 
 
 n] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS v ' 
 
 woert love ^, and AUig, mired in gloom over h«r 
 ^^^^r^, .tepped into . radiancy of exotic 
 
 The girl bravely Bought to shake off her gloom, chid- 
 mg her heavy heart for its unfilial lack of response 
 Crane, accnstomed to mental athletics, tutored hi^ 
 mind into a seeming eraberance, and playfully aUuded 
 to his own defeat at the hands of AUii and the erratic 
 Lauaume. There was no word of the bank episode, 
 nothing but a pnan of victory. 
 
 Crane's statement to Allis that he was going out to 
 Hmgwood,to see her father was only an excuse. He 
 soon took his departure, a stable-boy driving him back 
 to ttie village. There he had a talk withlie c ahier. 
 Mortimer was to be asked to resign his position as soon 
 as his place in the bank could be filled. No further 
 prosecution was to be taken against him unless Crane 
 decided upon such a course. 'In the meantime you 
 can mvestigate cautiously," he said, "and keep quite to 
 yoursdf any new evidence that may turn up. Sofaraa 
 MrMortimer is concerned, the matter is quite dosed." 
 TbB cashier had always considered hia flondover a 
 hard man,^and, in truth, who hadn't? BToould 
 ecarcely understand this leniency; he had expected a 
 ngorousproeecntion of Mortimer; had ahnoet^ljaded 
 Its seven^. Personally he had no taste for it: still, 
 he would feel insecure if the suspected man, uideniablv 
 guuty, were to remain permanently in the bank. His 
 dismissal from the staff was a wise rnove, tempered by 
 un«^ted clemency. If there w«re not something 
 behmd It all-4lus contingency always attached itoelf 
 to Crane s acts-his employer had acted with fine, wise 
 discrimmation. 
 
 [860] 
 
XLn 
 
 Cbanb returned to New York, his mind working 
 imootUy to the hum of the busy wheels beneath his 
 coach. 
 
 This degrading humiliation of his rival must certainly 
 be turned to account. With Allis Porter still belieying in 
 M(»rtimer's innocence. the gain to him was yery little; 
 he must bring the crime absolutely home to the accused 
 man, but in a manner not savoring of persecution, else 
 tiM girl's present friendly regard would be turned into 
 abhorrence. In addition to this motive he felt an in- 
 clination to probe the matter to its utmost depths. It 
 was not his nature to l^ve anything to conjecture; in all 
 his tomsactions each link in the chain of preparation 
 for execution was welded whole. He Mt that it would be 
 but a matter of manipulation to environ Mortimer com- 
 pletely with the elements of his folly. He firmly believed 
 him guilty; Allis, misled by her infatuation, mentally 
 attributed the peculation to her brother. 
 
 The Banker would go quietly to work i settle this 
 point beyond dispute. He might have hesitated, leaving 
 well enough alone, had he beoi possessed of any doubts 
 as to the ultimate results of his investigation, but he 
 wasn't He reasoned that Mortimer had taken the thou- 
 sand-dollar note thinking to win three or four thousand 
 at least over his horse. The Dutchman, and then replace 
 the abstracted money. Crane was aware that Alan Por- 
 ter had told Mortimer of The Dutchman's almost certain 
 
 £861] 
 
 li- 
 
THOROUGHBREDS ^ ' 
 
 proBpect of winniiigj in fact, the boy had snggetted that 
 Mortimer had taken it for thia purpose. Mortimer would 
 not have changed the note; would have taken it straight 
 to the race course. He must have lost it to some book- 
 maker over The Dutchman. Crane knew the number of 
 the stolen note. The three one-thousand-dollar bills were 
 new, running in consecutive numbers, B 67,482-83-84; 
 he had noticed that quite by chance at the time; it was 
 the middle one, B 67,483, that was missing. So he had 
 a possible means of identifying the man who had taken 
 tiie money. Mentally he followed Mortimer during the 
 day ^ Gr^vesend. From Alan he knew of his winning 
 over Lau2anne. 
 
 Crane reasoned that Mortimer, having risked the thou- 
 sand on his horse, had been told that Lauzanne might 
 wm. This had perhaps frightened him, and being un- 
 familiar with the folly of such a course had backed two 
 horses in the same race— had put a hundred on Lauzanne 
 at ten to one to cover his risk on The Dutchman, feeling 
 tlus made him more secure. He would either win a con- 
 siderable stake or have sufficient in hand to cover up his 
 defalcation. The first thing to do was to find the note 
 if possible. Faust would be the man for this commission. 
 
 Immediately upon his arrival in New York, Crane 
 tyephoned for Faust, asking him to bring his betting 
 Aaet for the second last day of the Brooklyn Meet 
 When Faust arrived at Crane's quarters the latter said, 
 ^ want to trace a thousand-doUar note, number 
 B 67,488. I think it was betted on the Brooklyn Derbv 
 probably on my horse.'' ^' 
 
 Faust consulted his betting sheet. Crane looking over 
 
 lusshouder. "I didn't have no thousand in one bet on 
 that race," he said. 
 
 [sestj 
 
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO 
 
 : 
 
 ''What are those figures/' asked the other, pointing 
 to two consecutive numbers of one thousand each. 
 
 "That was the other way about," answered the Book- 
 maker; ''that was pay. A thousand to one hundred 
 twice over Lauzanne. I think it must have been stable 
 mon^, for one of the guys was like a big kid ; he didn't 
 know 'nough to pick a winner in a thousand years." 
 
 The coincidence of this amount with the win at- 
 tributed to Mortimer, appealed to Crane's fancy. "You 
 remember the man who made this bet, then?" he asked. 
 "Yes, sure thing. There was two of 'em, as you see. 
 I remember him because it took some explainin' to get 
 the bet through his noddle. He was a soft mark for a 
 bunco steerer. I've seen some fresh kids playin' the 
 horses, but he had 'em all beat to a standstill. It must 
 a-been first-time luck with him, for he cashed." 
 "Can you describe him?" 
 
 The (^erub drew an ornate verbal picture, florid in 
 its descriptive phraseology, but cognate enough to con- 
 vince Cnme it was Mortimer who had made one of the 
 bets. His preconceived plan of the suspected man's 
 operations was working out. 
 
 "Now find this thousand-dollar note for me," he 
 said; "take trouble over it; get help if necessary; go to 
 every bookmaker that was in line that day. If you 
 find the note, exchange other money for it and bring 
 it to me." 
 
 "There may be a chance," commented Faust, scratch- 
 ing his fat poll meditatively; "the fellows like to keep 
 these big bills, they're easier in the pocket than a whole 
 bundle of flimsies. The next day was get-away-day, an* 
 they wouldn't be payin' out much. Ill make a play fer 
 it" 
 
 [d68] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 The next afternoon Faust reported at Crane'i roomt 
 with the reioaed note in hit poMeuion. He had been 
 tocceitfal. 
 
 "I give a dozen of 'em a turn/' he laid, '^fore I nm 
 again' Jinunie FarrelL He had it enuggled away next 
 his chest among a lot of yellow-backs, good Dutchman 
 money.'* 
 
 "Does he know who bet it r 
 
 ''Not his name — some stranger; he'd know him if he 
 law him, he says." 
 
 Crane g^ped this new idea with avidity, the scent 
 was indeed getting hot. Why not take Farrell down to 
 Brookfield to identify Mortimer. He had expected the 
 searching for evidence would be a tedious matter; his 
 fortunate star was guiding him straight and with rapid- 
 ity to the goal he sought. 
 
 I'm much obliged to you," he said to Faust. **I won't 
 trouble you further; I'U see Farrell mysdf. Give me 
 his address." 
 
 That evening the Banker saw Farrell. "There was a 
 little crooked work over that thousand Faust got from 
 you," he said, "an' if you could find time to go with me 
 for an hour's run into the country, I think you oould 
 identify the guilty party." 
 
 "I can go with you," Farrell answered, **but if s Just a 
 chance in a thousand. I should be on the block down 
 at Sheepshead, but, to tdl you the truth, the hot pace 
 the backers set me at Brooklyn knocked me out a bit. 
 I'm goin' to take a breather for a few days an' lay again' 
 'em next week. Yes, 111 go with you, Mr. Crane." 
 
 In the morning the two journeyed to Brookfield. 
 
 "I won't go to the bank with you," Crane said; "I 
 wish you would go in alone. You may make any excuse 
 
 [864] 
 
CHAPTER FORTY TWO ' 
 
 ycm like, or none .tdl. J)?* ?J " *!f .XCS^' **^ 
 Ste from i. behind the fil. I^J?****^!^' 
 
 In fifteen minutee he wm rejoined by Ftrreu. 
 
 '^Welir he Mked. 
 
 «*He'§ there, right enough." 
 
 «A iort dirk Uttie chapr qnettioned C«ne, heri- 
 Utingly, putting Aim Porter forward •■ a feeler. 
 
 «No. A taU fellow with a mustache." 
 
 *Trou are sure?" , ^, . .„ 
 
 «iead fure, unlew he's got a double, or a twin 
 
 *^^e'felt that at last he had g<>k,jpdkpuUble p«)of ; 
 evidence that would «itirfy even Allit Porter. Hew- 
 Sced Uttle exhilaration over the diBCOVwy-Je had 
 S^ Twre befor^yet his hand was ^rengto^ 
 JSy Whateter might be the result of his suit wi^ 
 S tWB must convince her that Mortimer ™ g^^. 
 ^;Zrthy of her love. I?^*^™ «^,tu ?^^", 
 "the thought that it quite cleared Alan of his sister's 
 
 '"tS^'l^ would use this confirmation Crane hardly 
 knewTit would come up in its own proper place at the 
 
 '^^"^ t^now," he said to Farrell; <<we may 
 „ well walk leisurely to the station; we«mgetatram 
 "topulkd out his iatch-'Hn twenty mmutes/* 
 
 CtLe had made up his mind not to show himself at 
 theb^Sstday. He wished to hold his ^scovery qmte 
 
 SSsTwithin hiiself-pl«» his «>?^"« Jl,~^«^^^ 
 habitual caution. It meant no mcreased W^^^n 
 ^S^Mortimer's liberty ; it was of value only in his 
 
 ^^J t!iSJ^'lS:;iy toward «ie station Crane met 
 ' [865] 
 

 TH0B0U6HBREDB 
 
 abrnptly th« girl who wm jtut then lo much In his 
 thought!. Her sodden eppetntnoe quite stertled him, 
 though it was quite aoddentaL She had gone in to do 
 some shopping, she explained, after Crane's greeting. 
 
 Farrell continued on when his companion stopped. 
 A sudden determination to tell the girl what he had un- 
 earthed took quick possession of Crane. ^ fine sense 
 of reasoning told him that though she professed podtiTe 
 faith in Mortimer, she must have moments of wavering; 
 it seemed only human. Perhaps his presiding deity had 
 put this new weapon in his hands to turn the battle; 
 
 He began (by assuring her that he had prosecuted tha 
 inquiry simply through a desire to establish the inno- 
 cence of either Mortimer or her brother, or, if possible, 
 both. 
 
 "You understand," he said, quite simply, **ihat AUw 
 is like a brothei^'' he was going to say ''son," but it 
 struck him as being unadyisaUe, it aged him. E» x«- 
 lated how he had traced the stolen note, how he had dii- 
 covered it, how he had brought the bookmaker down, and 
 how, without guidance from him, Farrell had gone into 
 the bank and identified Mortimer as the man who had 
 betted the nK«ey. 
 
 It dean Alan,'* he said, seeking furtively for a lo<^ 
 into the drooping face. 
 
 The bric^ sun struck a sparkle of U^^t from somo- 
 
 thing that shot downward and splashed in the dust The 
 girl was crying. 
 
 'Tm sorry," he offered as atonement Terhaps I 
 shouldn't have told you; ifs too brutal." 
 
 The head drooped still lower. 
 
 **l shouldn't have spoken had it not been for your 
 brother's sake. I didn't mean to. It was chance drew 
 
 [866] 
 
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO ' 
 
 joa aeroM my path joit now. Though it it crueU it it 
 batter that yon thould know. No man hat a right to 
 deoeite you, you are too good. It it thit very oonttancy 
 and goodneta that hat taught me to lore you." 
 
 "Don't/* the pleaded ; "I can't bear it jutt now. Pleate 
 don't talk of love, don't talk of anything. Can't you tee 
 — «an't you underttand ?" 
 
 "Yet, I know— you are tuffering, but it it unjutt ; you 
 ■re not fair to yourtelf . If thit man would tteal money, 
 what Terence would your love make to him? He would 
 be aa unfaithful to you at he hat been to hit trutt in the 
 bank. You mutt oontider yourtelf— you mutt give him 
 up; you can't link your jova..^, beautiful life to a man 
 who ia only tared from the penitentiary becaute of your 
 
 influence. 
 "Don't talk that way, Mr. Crane, pleate don't I know 
 
 you think that what you tay it right, but what dif- 
 ference doet it all make to me? You know what love it 
 like, you tay It hat come to you now. My heart tellt me 
 ^t Mortimer ia guiltlett. The time hat been to thort 
 tiiat he haa had no chance to clear himself. If I didn't 
 believe in him I wouldn't love him ; but I ttill love him, 
 and to I believe in him. I can't help it— I don't want to 
 hdp it ; I timply go on having faith in him, and my love 
 doean't falter. Can't you underttand what a terrible 
 thteg it would be even if I were to content to become 
 yonrwife? I know it would please my mother. But if 
 afterward thia other man was found to be innocent, 
 wouldn't your life be embittered— wouldn't it be terrible 
 for you to be tied to a woman who loved another man ?" 
 
 "But it it impottible that he is innocent, or will ever 
 be thought to." 
 
 "And I know that he is innocent." 
 
 I9fft] 
 
 ^1 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 Tour jndfrntnt mutt toll 7011 that this is onlj 
 
 If 7 hMfft tolli ma th«t 1m is not guilty of this aims. 
 My bswt is still tm« to him; so, shaU I dscids tgaiost 
 mysslf ? Don't— don't stab me to dotth with words of 
 Mortimer's guilt; it hss no effect, and only gifss me 
 pain. I must wait— we must all wait. Just wait Thne 
 is no harm in waiting, the truth will come out at last. 
 But you will keep your promise?" she said, lifting her 
 ^yes to his face. 
 
 Tee, I meant no harm to Mortimer in searching for 
 this eridenoe ; it wu only to dear your brothsr.** 
 
 They had come to the station by now. 
 
 "Would you like to speak to Mr. Farrelir Crane 
 asked. 'Tou are taking my word." 
 
 "No, it is useless. I can do nothing but wait; that I 
 can and will do." 
 
 "Don't think me cruel," Crane said, "but the wait win 
 be so long." 
 
 "It may be forever, but I will wait. And I thank you 
 again for your^-for your goodness to me. I'm sorry tinat 
 I'to giren you trouble. If you can — ^if you can— Huake 
 it easier for Mortimer — I know he'll fed it if you jould 
 make him think that you didn't altogether bdiere him 
 a — a— dishonest — will you, for my sake?" 
 
 It was generally supposed that Crane's heart had been 
 mislaid at his inception and the void filled with a piece 
 of diisded marble; for years he was a convert to this 
 bdief himself; but as he stood on the platform of the 
 primitive little station and looked into the soft luminous 
 gray eyes, swimming moist in the hard-restrained tears 
 of the pleading girl, he became a child. What a won- 
 drous i^ing love was ! Mountains were as mole-hills be- 
 
 [368] 
 
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO 
 
 fbft 10^ faith. In Um unlimited powtr of )m 
 magnetiMn, what a triila the had aakad of himl With 
 an inilnenoe lo gnat ihe had limply said, ''Span of 
 oenran this man for my sake.'' In thankfalncM rather 
 than in oondaaoenaion he promiaed. 
 
 Even in diagraoe— a felon— how Mortimer wu to be 
 enried I Abore all elie waa luch abiding loTe. In hie, 
 Crane's, victory was the bitterness of defeat; the other* 
 beaten down, triumphed in the gain of this priceless love. 
 A sharp material whistle, screeching through ito brass 
 dome on the incoming train, cut short these fantastically 
 ehaotio thoughts. 
 
 «Qood-bye, and thank you," said the girl, holding out 
 her hand to Crane. 
 <'6Aod-bye,'' he repeated, mechanically. 
 V » had he accomplished? He had beaten lower his 
 riT ' wedded firmer to the beaten man the lore he 
 prin. jOve all else. Tu his ears rang the girl's words, 
 •nUTait, wait, /'ait. * Irresponsibly he repeated to him- 
 self, "All tUngs come to them that wait.'* 
 
 Seated in the car swift whirled toward the city, he 
 was almoet surprised to find Farrell by his side. He waa 
 like a man in a dream. A tision of gray eyes., blurred in 
 tears of regret, had obliterated all that was material. 
 In defeat his adversary had the victory. He, Philip 
 Crane, the man of oslculation, was but a creature of 
 emotion. Bah! At forty if a man chooses to : isume the 
 role of Orlando he does it to perfection. 
 
 With an effort he swept away the cobweb of dreams 
 and sat upright— Philip Crane, the careful planner. 
 «You nearly missed the train," said Farrell. 
 *DiA I r questioned Crane, perplexedly. 1 thought I 
 got on in ploity of time." 
 
 [ 869 1 
 
TH0B0U6HBREDS 
 
 PtneU smiled knowingly, as befitted a maa<rf Ids oe- 
 cnpation:-< New Yorker, up to muff. The veiled in- 
 «m»ti^^ted Crane. Was everything in the world 
 vile ? He had left a young life swimming hopelessly in 
 the fcreakers of disaster, buoyed only by faith and love: 
 imd at his side sat a man who winked complacently, and 
 beamed upon him with senile admiration because of his 
 supposed gallantly. 
 
 Perhaps a year before this moral angularity would 
 not have affected him; it would not have appealed to him 
 «s bang either clever or objectionable; he would simply 
 not have noticed it at aU. But Allis Porter had orii- 
 Bated a reyoktion in his manner of thought. He even 
 foaght gainst the softer awakening; it was like destroy, 
 tog the lifelong habits of a man. His caUousness had 
 been a rfueld that had saved him troublous misgivings; 
 behmd this Aield, even in rapacity, he had experi^ 
 peace of mmd, absence of remorse. If he could have put 
 away from him his love for the girl he would have done 
 sowiUingly. Why should he battle and strive for an un- 
 attainable something as intangible as a dream ? It was 
 so paradoxical that Aula's love for Mortimer seemed 
 hopeless because of the latter's defeat, while his. Crane's 
 lov^was equally hopeless in his hour of victory. 
 
 FarreU's voice drew him from this psychological mud- 
 dle m fames tiiat sounded harsh as the cawing of homin* 
 ravens at eventime. ^^^ 
 
 '*WiU it be a court caser he queried. 
 
 «ISS^*r_f ^^ ^"^^' ^°°* ^ *«^Jed elysium. 
 'That high roUer in the bank." 
 "Oh ! I can't say yet -Nnt it will lead ta" Crane's 
 caution always asserted itself first. 
 ''Well, I've been thinldng it over. Thaf s the otv. 
 
 [870] *' 
 
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO 
 
 rif^i enon^, but when it oomes to swearing to a man's 
 identity in court, if s just a bit ticklish.** 
 
 Crane frowned. He disliked men who hedged. He 
 always planned first, then plunged; evidently his com- 
 panion had plunged first, and was now verifying his 
 plans. 
 
 Farrell continued, 'TTou see what I meanP* 
 
 **I donV* answered Crane, shortly. 
 
 **You will if you wait," advised Farrell, a tinge of 
 asperity in his tone. *Tm makin' a book, say. AU the 
 blazin' idiots in Christendom is climbin' over me wantin* 
 to know what 1*11 lay this and what 1*11 lay that. They're 
 like a lot of blasted moequitoe. A rounder co' Lf ^ ' ) an* 
 makes a bet ; if it's small p'r'aps I don't twig uL" m ^ at 
 all, just grabs the dough an* calls his number, -la may 
 be Rockefeller, or a tdu^ from the Bowery, it don*t 
 make no difference to me; all I want is his goods an' his 
 number, see ? But a bettor of the right sort slips in an* 
 taps me for odds to a thousand. Nat* rally I'm interested, 
 because he parts with the thousand as though it was his 
 heart's blood. I size him up. There ain*t no time fer the 
 writin* down of earmarks, though most like I could 
 point him out in a crowd, an* say, *That*s the rooster.* 
 But s*poein* a judge stood up another man that looked 
 pretty much like Um, an* asked me to swear one of the 
 guys into ten years in Sing Sing, p*r*ap8 I*d weaken. 
 Mistaken identify is like grabbin* up two kings an* a 
 jack, an* playin* *em fer threes.** 
 
 **Which means, if I understand it, that you*re guess- 
 ing at the man— that Tve given you all this trouble for 
 nothing.** 
 
 Crane wished that Farrell had kept his doubts 
 to himself; the case had been made strong by his first 
 
 [8T1] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 dednon, and now tha devil of nnoertainty wooldiattiOT 
 the yalue of identification. ^^ 
 
 "Not by a jngfnll" ^acolaied PamU. *Tm jmt 
 tellin* yon this to show yon that we've got to make it 
 complete— we've got to get collateral to back ip my 
 pidrin'." 
 
 Ton mean some one else to identify him also ?" 
 
 "No> not just that; bnt that's not a bad thought. My 
 derk, Ned Hagen, mnst have noticed him too. I mean 
 that the bettor's ' V nnmber will be in line with that 
 bet, an' yon can prooably find our the nnmber of the. 
 badge this rooster wotc." 
 
 An inspiration came with Panell's words— came to 
 Crane. Why had he not thought of that before? Still 
 it didn't matter. The badge nnmber, Mortimer's nnm- 
 ber, would be in Fansf s book where had been entered 
 the hundred dollars Mortimor put on TAnn^imft He 
 could compare this with the nnmber in Fanell's book; 
 no doubt they would agree; then, indeed, the chain 
 would be completed to the last link. No man oa earth 
 could question that evidence. 
 
 'Ifs a good idea, Panell," he said. 
 
 "Bet yer life, if s dear Pinkerton. Yon'd better come 
 round to my place to-morrow about ten. an' weTl look 
 it up." 
 
 "I will," Crane answered. 
 
 [art] 
 
\i 
 
 
 XLm 
 
 Thb old bay hone that crawled back to Ringwood 
 with Allis Porter after her interview with Crane must 
 have thought that the millennium for driving horses 
 had sorely come. Even the ambition to urge the 
 patriarch beyond his complacent, irritating dog trot 
 was crushed out of her by the terrible new evidence the 
 banker had brought in testimony against her lover. 
 
 **l didn't need this/' the girl moaned to herself. In 
 her intensity of grief her thoughts became audible in 
 expressed words. ''Oh, Qod V* she pleaded to the fields 
 that lay in the silent rapture of summer content, 
 ''strengthen me against all this falseness. Tou didn't 
 do 1^ George — ^you couldn't — ^you couldn't ! And Alan I 
 my poor, weak brother ; why can't you have courage and 
 d^ur your friend?" 
 
 Her heart rose in angry rebellion against her brother, 
 against Crane, against Providence, even against the 
 man she loved. THiy should he sAcrifioe both their lives, 
 become an outcast himself to shield a boy, who in a 
 moment of weakness had committed an act which might 
 svrely be forgiven if he would but admit his mistake? — 
 yes, it might even be called a mistake. The punishment 
 accepted in heroic silence by Mortimer was out of all 
 proportion to the wrong-doing. It meant the utter 
 ruin of two lives. Firmly as she believed in his inno- 
 cence, a conviction was forced upon her that unless 
 Alan stood forth and boldly proclaimed the truth the 
 
 [87S] 
 
THOROUOHBBEDS 
 
 ■ocamiikte4 guilt-proof would doad Mortiinfl^t name, 
 pearhftps until his death. Even after that hit inemorj 
 mig^t linger as that of a thief. 
 
 The evening before Alan had been at Bingwood and 
 Allis had made a final endeavor to get him to dear the 
 other's name by confessing the tmth to Crane. On her 
 knees she had pleaded with her brother. The boy had< 
 fiercely disclaimed all complicity, protested his own 
 innocence with vehemence, and denounced Mortimer 
 as worse than a thief in having poisoned her mind 
 against him. 
 
 In anger Alan had disclosed Mortimei . treachery-^ 
 as he called it—and crime to their mother. Small 
 wonder that |^llis's hour of trial was a dark one. The 
 courage that had enabled her to carry Lauzanne to 
 victory was' now tried a thousandfold more severdy. 
 It seemed all that was left her, just her courage and 
 faith; they had stood out successfully against all 
 denunciation of Lauzanne, and, with God's help, they 
 would hold her true to the man she loved. 
 
 Even the pace of a snail lands him somewhere finally, 
 and the unassailed Bay, with a premonition of BOjpj^ 
 hovering obscurely in his lazy mind, at last consented 
 to arrive at Bingwood. 
 
 Allis crept to her father like a fearsome child avoid- 
 ing goblins. Providentially he had not been initiated 
 into the moral crusade against the iniquitous Mortimer, 
 so the girl clung to him as a drowning person mi^t 
 to a plank of salvation. She longed to tell him every- 
 thing — of her love for Mortimer, perhaps he had 
 guessed it, for he spoke brave words often of the sturdy 
 young man who had saved her from Diablo. Perhaps 
 she would tell him if she felt her spirit giving way-4t 
 
 1874] 
 
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE 
 
 WM enud to stand quite alone— and beieech him, as hfl) 
 had faith in her, to belieye in her loter. 
 
 Allis went to the tea tahle by her father's side, fear- 
 ing to get beyond his hearing ; she dreaded her mother's 
 questioning eyes. What conld be said in the accused 
 man's defense, or in her own? Nothing; she could only 
 
 wait. 
 
 A square old-foshioned wooden dock on the mantel- 
 piece of the sitting room had just droned off seven 
 meUow hours, when the faint echo of its music was 
 diowned by the crunch of gravel ; there was the quick 
 tt^ of somebody coming up the drive ; then the wooden 
 steps gave hollow notice. The visitor's advent was an- 
 nounced again by the brass knocker on the front door. 
 
 "Ill go," said yiis, as her mother rose. The girl 
 knew who it was that knocked, not because of any sane 
 reason ; she simply knew it was Mortimer. 
 
 When she opened the door he stepped back hesitat- 
 ingty. Was he not a criminal— was he not about to 
 leave his position because of theft? 
 
 "Come in," she said, quietly; **! am glad you have 
 ocmie." 
 
 "Shall I? I just want to speak to you for a minute. 
 I said I would come. But I can't see anybody— just you, 
 alone." 
 
 "I understand," she answered. "Come inside." 
 
 **I am going away," he began; **I can't stand it 
 here." 
 
 "You have done nothis^ — nothing to dear yourself ?" 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 "And you won't?" 
 
 '*No." 
 
 "Is this wise?" 
 
 [•71] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 **It ii thi inevitable/* v ^ 
 
 ing. The girl broke the Btillnew. ^^ 
 
 »«?« ■?? 5^^ J*""* ^*^® ~""®' ^^®«^^ I c«» tell you 
 again that I faiow you are innocent. I know it/be- 
 cause my heart repeats it a thousand times a day. I 
 
 ^ to the small voice and I hear nothing elae." 
 TTou never waver— you never doubt P' 
 
 **Never/* 
 
 *Tou never will r 
 "Never/* 
 
 thZrJ T "''*•. ?*^'' °»^ ^»^« ^-^ misfortune 
 
 now, and I should be a coward if I faltered. Some Sir 
 perhaps, you will know that I am worthy of your fim. 
 
 ^tr^i *^'i *^? ""^"^^^^ brings^o/Z S 
 misery-there, forgive me, I have said too much^ 
 am ^ven now a coward. If you will say goodiye 
 
 "Good-bye, my hero.** She raised her eyes blurred 
 with tears, and held out her hand gropiS, TZ 
 searches m he dark, for the room wSdiSe a"tom 
 cbud, and just faintly she could see the ma^*s sS^ 
 face (^rnmg to her out of the gloom like the faceTf 
 god He took her hand. "Good-bye,** his voice vibrated 
 brokenly; «if-if Justice wills that my imiocen^ te 
 known some day, may I come back? Wm you wait 
 behevingmme for alittle?** ^^ 
 
 'Torever.** 
 
 «n?J-^'!l^^' ^ ^^^ ^^^ ^"°^ ^e stiU clasped, and 
 fw^' «tw«g*nn8 about her. What mattered^ now 
 that he had been falsely accused-what mattered it to 
 
 [876] 
 
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE 
 
 dther of them that he must accept the grim penalty of > 
 his endeavor? With them in the soft gloom was noth- 
 ing but love, and faith, and innocence; and within the 
 itrong arm3 a sense of absolute security, as though the 
 false accusing world had been baffled, beaten down, and 
 the victory theirs — love. 
 
 He raised the girl's face and kissed her. **Let God 
 witness that I press your brave lips in innocence," he 
 said ; "and in this pledge I love you forever and ever.'* 
 
 "Amen," came from Allis involuntarily; it sounded 
 to them both like the benediction of a high priest. 
 
 "Amen," he responded. To speak again would have 
 been sacrilege. 
 
 He put her from him gently, turned away and walked 
 quickly from the house. 
 
 The girl sat for a long time a gray shadow in the 
 gathering darkness. He was gone from her. It seemed 
 as though she had scarce spoken the encouragement she 
 widied to give him. It had been a meeting almost with- 
 out words; but she felt strangely satisfied. The ac- 
 cusing revelation that had come from Crane in the 
 afternoon had been a crushing blow. It was a mistake, 
 of course; it wasn't true — somehow it wasn't true, but 
 still it had stunned. Now in the gloaming she sat with 
 an angel of peace; big, steadfast, honest eyes, full of 
 thankfulness, looked lovingly at her from where he had 
 stood. If she could sit there forever, with the echo of 
 his deep "Amen" to their love lingering in her ears, 
 she would ask no further gift of the gods. 
 
 Mortimer, as with swinging stride he hurried towwd 
 the village, let his mind flit bac- to the room of gray 
 shadows. How little he had said I Had there been 
 aught spoken at all? The strong arms still tingled 
 
 [8TT] 
 
THOBOOOHBREDS 
 
 with tender winnth where the imineM of an uigil had 
 Mt them thrffliag eeitetktUy. Yei, what matteied 
 their ipeech? There had been little of the fatore— no 
 promiae to eend word of hia w«U4)eing— hot let ^ 
 fatnre look to itaelf . In tlw rreaent he waa king of a 
 lore realm that waa greater than all the wmld. 
 
 Field after Held flitted by, atndded here and there by 
 iqaare, gray apeetera of i^oat-like honaea that blinked 
 at him idth red dragon eyea. Sab-oooadooaly he kne^ 
 the eyea were warddng out the aecret that made him 
 in all hia miaery of misfortune 10 ha]^y. And he would 
 anawer to ^iie eyea, dragcm or human, without lear and 
 without shaihe— becauae he waa innocent — that it waa 
 love, the greateat thing in all the world, the lore and 
 faith BubUme of a good, true woman. Woman had he 
 aaid? — an angell 
 
 [•Ti] 
 
ZLIV 
 
 Ai Fterell had tnggefted. Crane fought him at tha 
 ofltoe the next day at ten o'elock. 
 ' Farxell and hit elerk were bnqr planning an enter* 
 filing campaign againit men who had laith in faet 
 hmee for the coming week at Sheepdiead Bay. 
 
 *'Ahl'' the Bookmaker ezdaimed when Crane en- 
 tered, ^on want that badge nnmber. Hagen, get the 
 betting iheet for the ieooi.1 last day at OraTeaend, and 
 look np a bet of one thooiand dollan we roped in orer 
 Mr. Crane's horse. I want the nnmber to locate the 
 man that parted— I wish there'd been more like him." 
 
 1)0 yon mean Billy Cassf queried the derk. 
 
 ''Who the deril's Billy Cass?^ 
 
 **Wfay the stiff that played The Dntdmian for a 
 
 Ton know him?" This query trom FarrelL 
 
 <*I dioald sayl He's a regW. Used to bet in 
 Mnllen's book laat year when I penciled for him." 
 
 The derk bron^^t the betting sheet and ran his linger 
 down a long row of fignies. 
 
 rrhaf s the bet A thoosand calls three on The 
 DnUAman. His badge nnmbor was 11>785. Yes, thafs 
 the bet; ! remember Billy Cass takin' it. Ton see," 
 he ccmtinaed, explanatory of his vivid memory, "he's 
 gen'rally a piker-i>lays a long shot— an' his Umif s 
 twenty dollars; so, when he comes next a favorite that 
 day with a cool thou', it give me stoppage of the heart 
 
 [S79] 
 

 THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 Danm'd if I didn't get cold feet. Bet yer lifeSt WMftt 
 BiUy*! monej— not a plunk of it; he had worirad an 
 angel, an' was playin' the farmer*! itnlf for him.** 
 
 "Are yon rare, Mr. Hagen— did yon know the manP* 
 Crane aiked. 
 
 ''Know him? All the way — tall, ilim, blue eyee, 
 light nmitache, hand like a woman." 
 
 'That'i the man/* affirmed Farrell ; ''that*! the man 
 —I eaw him yesterday in your place.** 
 
 Crane itared. For once in Us life the confueion of 
 an tmexpected event momentarily un!ettled him. 
 
 "I thought you identified — ^which man in the bank 
 didyoumefui?^ 
 
 **I eaw three: a ehort, dark, hairles! kid** — ^Alan 
 Porter, mentally tidced off Crane; "a tall, dark, h^ty- 
 ■houldered chap, that, judged by his mug, world have 
 made a fair record with the gloves — " 
 
 "Was not that the man you identified as havi. .g made 
 the bet?** interrupted Crane, taking a step forward in 
 his intense eagerness. 
 
 "Not on your life; it was the slippery-looking cove 
 with fishy eyes.** 
 
 "Cass,** muttered Crane to himself; "but thafs im- 
 possible—he never left the bank that day; there's some 
 devilish queer mistake here.** Farrell had identified 
 David Cass in the bank as the man who had bet with 
 him, while the clerk asserted that one "BUlif'* Cass 
 had made the same wager. Hagen*s description of 
 "Billy** Cass fitted David Cass in a general way. Again 
 the badge number — 11,785— was not Mortimer's, as 
 registered in Fau8t*8 book. 
 
 Crane stood pondering over the complication. He 
 saw that until further investigation disproved it there 
 
 [S80] 
 

 CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR 
 
 wold b« but one solution of tUi intricate riddle. Billy 
 C«M» the maker of the bet, was a race track frequenter; 
 Datid Cafci was not. They must be separate personali- 
 ties; but they resembled each other; they were of the 
 same name— they might be brothers. BiUy Case had 
 been in possession of the stolen note; he must hare got 
 it from some one haring access to it in the bank — Mor- 
 timer, Alan Porter, or Cass— the cashier was quite out 
 of the question. 
 
 The next move was to trace back through Billy Cass 
 the man who had delivered to him the stolen money. 
 There was still a chance that Mortimer, unfamiliar with 
 betting and possibly knowing of Billy Cass through 
 his brother in the bank — if they were brothers— had 
 used this practical racing man as a commission agent. 
 This seemed a plausible deduction. It was practically 
 impossible that David Cass could have got possession 
 of the bill, for it was locked in a compartment of which 
 Mortimer had the key; the latter had admitted that the 
 keys were not out of his possession. 
 
 This far in his hurried mental retraspect Crane spoke 
 to Farrell : ''I think this is all we can do at present. I 
 may find it necessRry to ask you to identify this Cass, 
 but I hope not to trouble you any furtiier in the 
 matter.'* 
 
 "Hang the trouble!** energetically responded Far^ 
 lell, with huge disclaiming of obligation; *1*11 spend 
 time and money to down a crook any day ; I*ve no use 
 for 'em; a few of that kidney gives the racin' game a 
 black eye. If you need me or Hagen, just squeak, an* 
 we*ll hop onto the chap if he's a wrong one with both 
 feet.*' 
 
 Crane said nothing about the other number he had 
 
 [881] 
 
TR01IOC70HBRED6 
 
 onlWd from Ftnrt'i book; ht ttid nothinf aboot hit 
 rmpidon of t brotherhood; ho wantod to m book to 
 Ui onartort and think this new problem out 
 
 What if in leeking for oondwiTe eridenoe against 
 Mortimer he ihonld prove him innooentP He was 
 treading upon dangeroiu ground, piuhing out of hie 
 path with a firebrand a fiue ctoeely attached to a mine 
 that might explode and ahatter the carefnllT oonitmcted 
 fkbrio. 
 
 Sitting in hia own chamber he once more went orer 
 the whole extraordinary entanglement Ifittaken as it 
 was, Farrell's identification at Brookfleld must have 
 atoonj^y afl^ed the mind of Allis Porter. At the time 
 Crane had phtyed an honest part in reoouiting it to 
 the girL He had firmly beliered that FarwU, owing 
 to his ambignoQs report, had meant Mortimer; in fact, 
 Cats had not entered his mind at all. Eren yet Morti- 
 mer might be the guilty lu^a-^irobably was. Why 
 •hould he. Crane, pursue this investigation that might 
 turn, boomerang-like, and act disastrously. Mortimer 
 was either a thief or a hero; there could be no question 
 about that. As a hero, in this case, he was pretty much 
 of a fool in Crane's ejet; but Allis Porter would not 
 look upon it in that light— she would deify him. Crane 
 would commit diplomatic suicide in developing Morti- 
 mer's innocence. 
 
 Again he asked himself why he should proceed. Mor- 
 timer was guilty in the strong, convicting light of the 
 apparent evidence; better let it rest that happy way- 
 happy for Crane. But still would he rest satisfied him- 
 self? He was not accustomed to doing things by halyes. 
 If Cass had stolen the money it would never do to re- 
 tain him in a position of trust Then the devil of 
 
 [8811] 
 
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR 
 
 nibtk diplomacy, familiar at all timat to Cnma, whis- 
 parad in hia aar that ha need not blaaen to the world 
 tha raanlt of hia forthar invaatigation; he might sat- 
 iafy hinielf, and then if Mortimer were found itill 
 deeper in the toila it might be apoken of; but if he 
 were found ianooent—well, waa Crane hia brothar'a 
 keapar? 
 
 Ha conld adopt one of two pUtna to get at the tmth; 
 ba oonld trace out Billy Caaa and extort from hun the 
 name of hia principal; but if itartled, the latter might 
 rrfnia to dirnlge anything. Police preeaure meant pab- 
 lidty. There waa a better plan— Crane always fonnd 
 a better plan in ererything. If David Caaa had stolen 
 the money he mnat have sent it to his brother; if that 
 fact were eatablished it would show a connection be- 
 tween the two. 
 
 That afternoon Crane took a train to Brookfield. A 
 visit lo the village post office disclosed a hidden jewel. 
 Aa far aa Crane was concerned the fate of the two men 
 waa held in the hollow of the poatmaater's hand. The 
 latter, with little heaitation, allowed him to delve into 
 (rfBdal secrets. 
 
 He learned that David Caaa had sent a letter, with a 
 quick-delivery stamp on it, to William Cass, at A B C, 
 Eaat Fourteenth Street, New York, at 8:30 p. m., on 
 June 18. So far as guilt or innocence waa concerned 
 there waa nothing 1^ to discover; the connection 
 between these two men was demonstrated. Farrell'a 
 misidentification established another truth — ^th^ were 
 brothers. The letter, hastening to its destination, had 
 contained the stolen money. Morti .'< r would not give 
 it to Cass to send away; even if Le had done so hn 
 would not then have gone to Graveaend. Alan Porter 
 
 [868] 
 
/^l{ 
 
 THOROUGHBREDS v v 
 
 had also gone to Oravesend ; if he had stolen the money 
 he would have taken it with him. 
 
 David Cass, the unsuspected, was the thief. Morti- 
 mer, condemned, having restored the money — Shaving 
 taken upon himself with almost silent resignation the 
 disgrace — was innocent. And all this knowledge was in 
 Crane's possession alone, to use as he wished. The fate 
 of his rival was given into his hands ; and if he turned 
 down his thumb, so, better for Mortimer that he had 
 been torn of wild beasts in a Roman arena than to be 
 cast, good name and all, to the wolves of righteous 
 humanity. 
 
 As a dog carries home a bone too large for immediate 
 consumption. Crane took back this new finding to his 
 den of solitude in New York. At eight o'clock he 
 turned the key in his door, and arm in arm with his 
 now constant companion walked fitfully up and down, 
 up and down, the floor. Sometimes he sat in a big 
 chair that beckoned to him to rest ; sometimes he raced 
 viih swift speed ; once he threw himself upon his bed, 
 and lay staring wide-eyed at the ceiling for hours. 
 Wliat mockery — ^hours! on the mantelpiece the clock 
 told him that he had ceased his strides for a bare five 
 minutes. 
 
 Then he thrust himself back into a chair, and across 
 the table opposite sat Wrong, huge — grinning with a 
 devilish temptation ; not gold, but a perfume of lilacs, 
 and the music of soft laughter like the tinkle of silver 
 bells, the bejeweled light of sweet eyes that were gray, 
 and all the temptation that Wrong held in itself was the 
 possession of Allis Porter. 
 
 And Crane need comm'^ no crime, unless inaction 
 were a crime — ^just leave things as they were. In the 
 
 [884] 
 
/ 
 
 CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR 
 
 i 
 
 eyes of the world Mortimer was a thief; he would never 
 claim Mis so branded. 
 
 Oraj e with a word could clear the accused man ; he 
 could go to David Cass and force him to confess. But 
 why should he do it— sacrifice all be held dear in life? 
 Everything that he had valued before became oblit- 
 erated by the blindness of his love for the girl. Yet 
 stUl the love seemed to soften him. Into his life had 
 come new, strange emotions. The sensuous odor of 
 stephanotis, that had not repelled in the old life, had 
 come to suggest a pestilence in his nostrils, made clean 
 by the purity of lilac. As he swayed in contention, the 
 face of Wrong fronting him became the face of Sm— 
 repellent, abhorrent; how could he ruin her life, and 
 
 by a criminal act ? ., v * j 
 
 Hour by hour the struggle went on, until, exhausted, 
 Crane flung himself upon his bed to rest a few minutes, 
 and sleep, unsought, came and hushed the turmoil of 
 
 his heart. , . ,. , u- 
 
 Without decision he had cast himself down; bis 
 mind, tortured in its perplexity, was unequal to the 
 task of guiding him. So wearied he should have slept 
 for hours, but, as the fijst glint of sunlight came 
 through the uncurtained window, he sprang from his 
 couch with the call of an uncompleted something in his 
 
 ears. 
 
 But calm had come to him in his sleep; the question 
 of right or wrong had been settled. He tried to re- 
 member how he had come to the conclusion that was 
 alone in his rested mind. It must have been before he 
 slept, though his memory failed him, for as he slum- 
 bered Allis Porter had come with the big gray eyes full 
 of tears and asked him once again to spare Mortimer 
 
THOROUOHBREDS 
 
 humiliation for her sake. And he had ar iwerecl, *^d 
 ia innocent/' God! he remembered it, even now it 
 thrilled through his frame— she had bent over and 
 Jdased him on the forehead. Yes, that was what had 
 wakered him. What foolish things dreams wen. He 
 had won just a kiss and had paid the price of his love; 
 and now waking, and in the calm of a conflict passed, 
 he had won over the demon that had tempted him with 
 the perfume of lilacs. He had striven to the point 
 when further strife became a crime. He had lott; but 
 he would prove himself a good loser. 
 
 [ass] 
 
XLV 
 
 That day Crane went to Brookfield. 
 
 In ipirit he was like a man that had been east into 
 an angry sea, and had battled his way through hungry 
 wares to shore. Saved, the ntter weariness of fierce 
 strife hung heavy over his soul, and exhaustion dead- 
 ened his joy of escape. Just saved, bereft of everything, 
 he looked back over the dark waters and shuddered. 
 And before him a dreary waste of desert shore-land 
 stretched out interminably, and be must wander alone 
 over its vast expanse forever. 
 
 Crane in all things was strong. It was strengtii drawn 
 to right by the influence of the woman he loved that 
 had saved him from the waters that were worse than the 
 broad sands of a desolate life. But he still had some- 
 thing to do, the final act made possible by his redemp- 
 tion. 
 
 At Brookfield he went to the hotel, seemed an isolated 
 sitting room upstairs, and with this as a hall of justice, 
 followed out with his usual carefulness a plan hn had 
 conceived. First he wrote a brief nt^ to Ailii Pnrter 
 addng her to come and see him at (moe. One line he 
 wrote made eertain the girl's coming, *1. have important 
 news to communicate concerning "Mi. Mortimer.'' Then 
 he sent the note off with a man. Next he despatched 
 a messenger for David Cub. He pulled out his watch 
 and lookei at it. It was three o'clock. "I think five 
 will do," he muttered; 'Ht should be all over by that 
 
 [•8T3 
 
THOROUGHBREDS . ^ 
 
 time." Another note addressed to Mortimer, asking 
 him to call at the hotel at five o'clock, went forth. 
 
 The village hoter throbbed with the pressure of un- 
 wonted business. The proprietor surmised that a finan- 
 cial matter of huge magnitude was afioat — another farm 
 was being mortgaged, most like ; more money for Bing- 
 wood probably, for had not a buggy gone out there to 
 bring some one in to the great financier. Those race 
 horses were the devil to put a man in a hole. 
 
 David Cass came, treading on the heels of a much- 
 whiskied hostler who had summoned him. 
 
 'TTou sent for me, sir ?" he asked of Crane. It may 
 have been the stairs — for he had come up hurriedly — 
 that put a waver in his voice; or it may have been a 
 premonition of trouble. 
 
 "Take a seat, Mr. Cass," Crane answered, arranging 
 a chair so that a strong light from the one window feU 
 across the visitor's face. 
 
 The hostler who had shown Cass to where the big 
 man awaited him lingered, a jagged wobble of hu- 
 manity, leaning against the door jamb. He expected an 
 order for **Eed Eye," as he had baptized strong drink 
 since it had grown familiarly into his being. 
 
 "Oh!" exclaimed Crane, "I'd forgotten; here's a 
 qnarter ; much obliged. That's all." 
 
 The hostler's unjointed legs, unstable because of re- 
 current debauchery, carried him disconsolately to lower 
 levels. The Banker must be sure of his business, must 
 have it well in hand, when he ignored the usual diplo- 
 matic mollifying preparation of a drink. 
 
 The hostler had left the sitting-room door open; 
 Crane closed it carefully, and, sitting with his badk to 
 the window, said to the bank clerk: "Mr. Cass, I am 
 
 [888] 
 
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE ' 
 
 going to be very candid with yon; I am going to tell 
 you that I have discovered you stole the thoueand doU 
 Ian Mortimer has been accused of taking." 
 
 Cass's face blanched a bluish white ; his jaw dropped 
 loosely like the jaw of a man who had been suddenly 
 Btruck a savage blow. His weak, watery, blue eyes 
 opened wide in terror; he gasped for breath; he es- 
 sayed to speak — ^to give even a cry of pain, but the 
 muscles of his tongue were paralyzed. His right hand 
 resting on the arm of his chair, as Crane ceased speak- 
 ing, fell hopelessly by his side, where it dangled like 
 the cloth limb of a dummy. 
 
 Crane saw all this with fierce satisfaction. He had 
 planned this sudden accusation with subtle forethought. 
 It even gave him relief to feel his suffering shifted to 
 another; he was no longer the assailed by evil fortune, 
 he was the assailant. Already the sustaining force of 
 right was on his side ; what a dreadful thing it was to 
 squirm and shrink in the toils of crime. A thought 
 that he might have been like this had he allowed Mor- 
 timer to stand accused flashed through his mind. He 
 waited for his victim to speak. 
 
 At last Cass found strength to say : 'Iklr. Crane, this 
 is a terrible accusation; there is some dreadful mis- 
 take—I did not—*' 
 
 The other interrupted him. The man's defense must 
 be so abjectly hopeless, such a cowardly weak string of 
 lies, that out of pity, as he might L;ve ceased to beat a 
 hound, Crane continued, speaking rapidly, holding the 
 guilty man tight in the grasp of his fierce denunciation. 
 
 **You stole that note. You sent it, with a quick-de- 
 livery stamp to your brother, Billy Cass, in New York, 
 and he bet it for you on my horse. The Dutchman^ on 
 
 [889] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 tfafl 13th, and loit it. Mortiiner, thinking that Alia 
 Porter had taken the money, replaced it, and you nearly 
 committed a greater crime tlum stealing when yon al- 
 lowed him to be dishonored, allowed him to be aocnsed 
 and all but convicted of your foolish sin. It is useless 
 to deny it, all this can be proved in court. I have 
 weighed the matter carefully, and if you confess you 
 * will not be prosecuted; if you do not, you will be sent 
 to the penitentiary.'' 
 
 Cass, stricken beyond the hope of defense, rose from 
 his chair, steadying himself with his hands on the tables 
 leaned far ov(er it, as though he were drawn physically 
 by the fierce magnetism of his accuser, and spoke in a 
 voice scarce stronger than the treble of a child's : *^j 
 QodI Mr. Crane! Do you mean it, that you won't 
 prosecute me? Did you say that ?" 
 
 **Not if you confess." 
 
 'Thank Qod— thank you, sir. I'm glad, I'm glad; 
 I've been in hell for days. I haven't slept. Mortimer's 
 eyes have stared at me all through tl^ night, for I 
 liked him — everybody liked him — he was good to me. 
 Oh. Gk>d 1 1 should have gone out of my mind with more 
 of it. I didnt steal the money — ^no, no ! I didn't mean 
 to steal it; the Devil put it into my hands. Before 
 Qod, I never stole a dollar in my life. But it wasn't 
 thai>— it wasnt the money— 4t was to think that an 
 innocent man was to eaSeir — to have his life wrecked 
 because of my foUy." 
 
 How it was coming home to Crane. Had he not 
 dabbled his hand in the same sin, almost comn>itted it? 
 
 'Ton have never known what it is to suffer in that 
 way. But let me tell you all. I must. Tlwn perhaps 
 you will understand how I was tempted. For years I 
 
 [880] 
 
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE 
 
 htTe been ground in poverty. My mother and my sis- 
 ter, even my brother have all looked to me. My brother 
 •honld have supported them, but all his money went on 
 the race course, gambling. When I heard Alan Porter 
 tell Mortimer that your horse was sure to win, for the 
 first time in my life I felt a desire to get money that 
 way. But I had no money to bet. That day as I went 
 into the vault I saw under a lower shelf — ^the Devil 
 drew my eyes that way — a bank note. I hardly knew it 
 was a bank note, for I saw but a piece of paper indis- 
 tinctly in the dim light. I picked it up. Oh, Qod I if 
 I hadn't touched it I I looked at it. My heart jumped 
 in my throat and choked me; my head swam. In my 
 ears were strange voices, saying: 'Take it! Put it in 
 your pocket I* Perhaps it was because it was so large — 
 a thousand dollars — ^perhaps it was because it seemed 
 lost, out of place, I don't know. I had handled thou- 
 sands and thousands before, and never felt that way. 
 
 ''The devil voices that were in my ears said: 'This is 
 your chance. Take it, borrow it, no one will know. 
 Bet it on the horse that will surely win, and you will 
 get many thousands; then you can replace it, and for 
 once in your life you will know what it is to have some- 
 thing of your own.' 
 
 *1 tried to put it back. I eouldn't. The voices 
 called me a fool, a coward. I thought of my mother, 
 my sister, what I could do if I had the courage. I 
 tried to take it in to Mr. Lane and say that I had found 
 it. I couldn't. Oh, my God I you don't know what it 
 is to be tempted ! Ton have been successful, and don't 
 know how miserably weak ill-fortune makes a man. I 
 yielded — ^I took it; then when its loss was discovered, 
 tnd Mortimer was accused, I tried to confeaa— I 
 
 [891] 
 
THOBOUOHBREDS 
 
 oonlda't; I was » ooward, * traitor, a Jndi l OIL 
 Godr - 
 
 The OTenrronght mm threw hiouelf face down on 
 the table in front of hii grim aoenier, lilre a child'i 
 broken doll, and wept with great loba that shook hia 
 frame at th« wind lashes the waters into tnrmoil. 
 
 An exultation of rigfateoos lictory swept through 
 Orane's sonl. He might hare been like that; he had 
 been saved from it by his love for a good woman. He 
 could not despise the poor broken creature who confessed 
 so abjectly, because idl but in deed he also had sinned. 
 The deepest cry of despair from Cass was because of 
 the sin he had committed against his friend — a^pdnst 
 Mortimer. | 
 
 Crane waited until Cass's misery had eihausted itsdf 
 a little, and when he spoke his Toioe was soft in pity. 
 
 1 understand. Sit in your chair there and be a 
 man. Half an hour ago I thought you a thief— I dont 
 now. Ton had your time of weakness, perhaps all men 
 have that; you fell by the wayside. I don't think 
 youll do it again." 
 
 "No, no, no I I wouldn't go through the hell Pre 
 liTed in again for all the money in the world. And I'm 
 •0 glad that it is known; I fed relief.*' 
 
 ^dl, it is better that the truth has oome out, be- 
 eause everything can be put rij^i I was going to make 
 you pay back t^ thousand dollars to Mortimer— I waa 
 going to drive you from the bank— I was going to let 
 it be known that yon had stolen the moiwy, but now, I 
 must think. You mutt have another chuioe. If s 
 a dangerous thing to wredc lives— " 
 
 "My God I it is; thafs what haunted me night and 
 day. I felt as though I had murdered a man who had 
 
 [8M] 
 
 I 
 
CHAPTER FORIT-FIVE 
 
 beta my fritnd. I kiMW he thonght yonng Porter luid 
 taken it and wm i hielding him. The memory of the 
 miiery in Mortimer's ftoe tt being counted a thief 
 would have ituck to me if 1 had liTed a hundred years/' 
 
 CaM had intermpted Crane. When he ceaaed again 
 out of exhaustion. Crane proceeded, ''Mortimer must 
 be paid back the money." 
 
 *ni saye and work my fingers off till I do it.** 
 
 Ton can't. Those dependent upon you would stanre. 
 ni attend to that myself." 
 
 "And you will let me go without—" 
 
 "No, you can't go." 
 
 "My God I I'm to be prosecuted?" 
 
 "No, you can stay in the bank. I don't think youll 
 erer listen to the voices again; ifs bad business." 
 
 Cass sat and stared at the strange man who said these 
 things out of silly expressionless eyes that were blurred 
 full of tears. 
 
 "Yes, you can go right on as you hare been. It wiU 
 be understood that the money was found, had been mis- 
 laid; 111 think that out. Ifs nobody's business just 
 now; I run the bank and you take orders from me. Qo 
 back to your desk and stay there. IVe got to tell Morw 
 timer and Miss Porter that you made tlHs mistake, and 
 Lane, too, I suppose, but nobody else will ever know 
 of it I was going to make you sign a confession, but 
 ifs not needed. Ton may go now." 
 
 Cass rose, his thin legs seeming hopelessly inadequate 
 to the task of carrying his body, and said, "Will you 
 take my hand, sir?" 
 
 "Of course I will. Just do right from this on, and 
 forget— no, better not forget; rememb&r that there is 
 BO crime like weakness; all crime comes from weakness. 
 
 [096] 
 
THOBOUGHBREDB 
 
 Be ttnmi^, and liitcn to no more Toioee. Bnt I n ee dn' t 
 teU yon. I know from this out I cen tnut yon fnrttwr 
 than e man who hu never been tried." 
 
 At the door CaM tamed and looked baek at the man 
 who had reached down into the abyii, polled him np, 
 and stood him on hii feet. The man was fitting quite 
 itiU, hif back to the light, hit head drooped, and Caaa 
 conld not see hia face. He strove fntilely for some 
 adequate expression of gratitude, but his senses were 
 numb from the shock of what he had escaped; he 
 simply nodded twice toward the sitting figure, turned, 
 and passed out into the street, where the sunlight bap- 
 tized him with warmth as though he had been bom 
 again. i 
 
 'Toor, weak devil!'' muttered Crane; then he 
 shivered. Had the imbecile's talk of voices got on to 
 his nerves? Surely a voice had whispered derisivdy in 
 his ear, ''Which one is the poor, weaJc devil?" And in 
 answer within his soul Crane knew that the margin was 
 iiideed of infinitesimal narrowness. Cass, hastened in 
 his temptation, yielding to the first insane impulse, not 
 knowing that the danmation of a friend hung on hia 
 act, had fallen. He, Crane, in full knowledge that two 
 innocent lives might be wrecked by his doing, had been 
 kept to the right only after hours of struggle, and by 
 the supporting influence of a supreme love. To have 
 gained Allis Porter by the strat^^r of a villain oould 
 not be the method of holy passion. To sacrifice his 
 desire and give her back her lover wtu love, love worthy 
 of the girl. 
 
 For an hour he waited; then there was turmoil on 
 the stairway; horses were surely coming up. At the 
 door a thick voice explained the diversion. The hostler 
 
 [994,] 
 
CBAPTER FORTY-FIVE 
 
 had agtin arriTed, with an hour of increaMd dnmlnii- 
 ncM polling mercilenly at hit emtio legi. 
 
 *'Jolm Porter*! gal 'ih here, an'-— an'— '* the hoetler 
 wrestled with the mental ezerciie that had been en- 
 tnutod to hia muddled brain. He'd iwear that the was 
 there, for his eyes had seen her, two of her; and also 
 he had a hazy idea that when he essayed the stairs she 
 had entrusted to him some message. He groped fitfully 
 unong the wheels that buzzed in his skull for the 
 elusive something connected with her advent. The 
 heredity of habit came to his assistance. 
 
 '^ye want a drink?" he asked, with a sudden 
 brightening. 
 
 "Dnxik !" a voice cried. "I don't want any drink." 
 A strong hand had him by the collar, and the house 
 was rocking violently to and fro; he could scarcely 
 keep his feet. 
 
 '^ake up, you're drunk. Is Kiss Porter down 
 stairs?" 
 
 'Torter, Porter, yeah, Portersh gal; thatsh what I 
 said. Whatah matter with you? — ^leg — go. Keep cool, 
 don't get excited." 
 
 "Here, get out — go down stairs 1" And he did, hur- 
 riedly. 
 
 Crane had followed him down. AUis was standing 
 Just within the hall door. 
 
 "Good afternoon, Miss Porter," he said. **It was 
 good of you to come. I've got something very impor- 
 tant to tell you, and if s better that we have quiet — it 
 doesn't seem quite the usual order of things here. 
 Should you mind coming upstairs to the sitting room, 
 where we shall be undisturbed?" 
 
 **1 don't mind," answered the girl, simply. 
 
 [895] 
 
THOBOUOHBREDB 
 
 *'HftTt t ehair*'* ht laid, motionint to tht «im 0m 
 had latdy lat in. 
 
 OniM did not take the other leet, but pteed leetliMhr 
 «p end down the room; it cooled the ferer of hie mind. 
 
 1 hope it im't more bad newt, Mr. Crane," AlUi 
 eaid; for her companion leemed indi^oeed to break the 
 ailenoe. 
 
 *<It ie-^* the girl itarted— *'for me," Crane added, 
 after a Uttle pauie; "and yet I am glad." 
 
 'That lonndt strange/' AUia commented, wondtr- 
 ingly. 
 
 ''What I am going to lay to yon means the destmo- 
 tion of the dearest hope I haye in life, but it can't hi 
 helped. Nov I i^onldn't have it any otiier way." 
 
 Suddenly he stopped in his swift pace, faced the giri, 
 and asked, "Yon are quite sore you can't lore mef^ 
 He was wa ting for an answer. 
 
 "No, I can't — ^I hate to cause yon misery, but I mnit 
 speak the troth; yon haye asked for it" 
 
 "And yon'ye answered honestly. I know it was 
 foolish in me to ask the impossible. Just one more 
 question and then I will tell yon why I brouf^t you 
 here. Do you still belieye in Mortimer's innocence— 
 do yon loye Mortimer?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "If I were to tell you that he is innocent, that I haye 
 discoyored the guilty one." 
 
 "Oh, my God I" It was a cry of sudden joy, incap- 
 able of exact expression, irreleyant in ite naming of the 
 i)eity, but full in ite exultetion of soul. Then, in 
 quick transformation, the girl ccdlapeed, as Cass had 
 done, and huddled in her chair, stridden by the sudden 
 conyiction that the crime had been brought home to 
 
 [896] 
 
CHAPTEE FORTY-FIVE 
 
 fair bfothtr. Htr loftr wii goiltkii; bat to Joj om 
 it WM a till, iahwnOT, for wm not Alan tho thief, if 
 Mortimwr wwn innootnt? 
 
 OnM undffrttood. Ho had fofgotton. Ho itepped 
 qoiddy to the girrs tide, put hit hand tenderly on her 
 head; her hig gray eyw itared up at him foil of a 
 ■hrinking horror. 
 
 Toor little woman!" he said, ''your big, tender 
 heart will be the death of yon yet. Bvt IVe got only 
 good newi for yon thii time. Neither Mortimer nor 
 Alan took the money— it was Can. 
 
 *frhey are both innooentP' 
 
 Tee, both," 
 
 "Oh, my Qod, I thank Thee." She palled henelf np 
 from the chair, holding to Crane's arm, and looking in 
 hie face, laid, 'Ton did this; yon foand the gidlty 
 man forme?" 
 
 Crane nodded his head; and it came to the girl as 
 die looked, that the eyes she had thought narrow in 
 eril grew big and roand and fall of honesty, and soft 
 with gentleiMss for her. 
 
 '^ow can I thank yoo— what oan I do or say to 
 repay yoa?" She knew what it most have cost the man 
 to clear his rival's name. 
 
 It was yoar doing. Miss Allis; it is I who most 
 thank yoo. Yon made a man of me, brought more g^>od 
 into my life than had been there for forty years. I will 
 be honest. I did not do this of mysdf, my own free 
 wiU. In my lore for yoo, and desire to have you witii 
 me always, I almost committed a crime. I wis tempted 
 to eoncMl the discovery I had made; I knew that if I 
 cleared Mortimer yoa were lost to me. I stra^^ed with 
 temptation and f eU asleep still not oonqoering it In 
 
 [WTl 
 
THOROUOHBREDS 
 
 
 my deep I dieuned— I don't think it was a dretm—lt 
 ▼as like a yiaion— yon came to me, and when I said that 
 Mortimer was innocent, yon kined me cm the f ordiead. 
 I woke then, and the itniggle had oeaaed— the tempta- 
 tion had paaied. I came down here, and Caai has oono 
 iened that he took the money." 
 
 '^onld yon like it— wotild yon think it wron9-4t 
 aeems so little for me to do — may I kiss yon now, as I 
 did in yonr dream, and thank you from the bottom of 
 my heart for making ine so hi^py? It all seems like a 
 dream to me now." 
 
 For answer Crane inclined his head, and AUis, pat- 
 ting her hand n|K)n his shoulder, kissed him on the fore- 
 head, and through him went a thrill of great thankfol- 
 ness, of joy such as he knew would never have come to 
 him had he gained through treachery even this small 
 token of oonqu^t. 
 
 There," he said, taking Allis by the arm, and gently 
 drawing her back to the chair; ''now I am repaid a 
 thousandfold for not doing a great wrong. Ton have 
 boitoi me twice within a few days. I Uxuej I should 
 ahnost be afraid to be your husband, you master me 
 80 nsUy." 
 
 That* s Mortimer coming," Crane said, suddenly, m 
 a step with more consiBteney in its endeavor than por- 
 tainid to the hostler's, sounded, coming up tibe itaiia. 
 1 sent for him," he added, seeing the look of hap^ 
 confusion in AlUs's face. 
 
 ''Come in," he called cheerOy, in answer to a kno(dc 
 on the door. 
 
 'Ton sent for mo—" Then Mortimer stopped sud- 
 denly, and stood staring first at Allis, then at Orane, 
 alternately, back and forth fnnn one to the otim; 
 
 [S98] 
 
CHAPTER F0RT7-FIVB 
 
 Cnme turned his bade upon the younger man and 
 bneied himself wondronaly otot the manipulation of a 
 chair. A strange dread crept into Mortimer's heart; 
 it smothered him; he felt dizzy. Why did AUis look 
 so happy — ^why were there smiles on her lips when she 
 must Imow there were ashes of gloom in his soul ? Why 
 was she alone there with Crane? Was it but another 
 devilish trick of the misfortune that pursued him? 
 
 ^Oood afternoon, Mise— " the wordis stuck in Morti- 
 mer's throat, and he completed his greeting with a most 
 dreadfully formal bow. 
 
 The girl laughed outright; how droll it was to see a 
 man trying to make himJself unhappy when there was 
 nothing but happiness in the world. Through the open 
 window she could hear the birds singing, and through 
 it came the perfume of doyor-buried fields; across the 
 floor streamed warm, bright sunlight from a blue sky 
 in whidi was no cloud. And from their lives, Morti- 
 mer's and her own, had been swept the dark cloud — and 
 here, in the midst of all this joy was her lover with a 
 long, sad face, trying to reproach her with a stiff, awk- 
 ward bow. 
 
 Her laugh twirled Crane about like a top. He saw 
 the odd situation ; thne was something incongruous in 
 Mortimer's stiff attitude. Crane had a big doud of his 
 own not quite driven fnm his sky, but a smile hovraed 
 on his thin lips. This happiness was worth catching. 
 
 Mortimer noticed the distasteful mirth reflected in 
 the other man's face, and he repeated with asperity, 
 •TTou weait for me, sir — may I ask — " 
 
 "WVl you take a chair," said Crane, and he pushed 
 the one he had been toying with toward Mortimer. The 
 latter remained standing. 
 
 [899] 
 
THOXOUaHBRBDS 
 
 -V-. 
 
 Allif fpraag fonriKl and caiij^t liiin by tiw •««— 
 Crane turned away, middenly diMorering that from the 
 window the main street of Biookfield wai a moet a^ 
 iorbing itndy. 
 
 *Tm BO happy," began AUii. Mortimer ihitered in 
 apprehenium. Why had Crane tamed his face away— 
 idiat was coming? How conld die be happy, how could 
 anyone in the world be happy? Bat evidently she was. 
 She stole a quick look at Crane-^ be enct. Crane's 
 back, for his head and shoulders weze through the 
 window. 
 
 Then the girli-she had to raise on her tiptoee— 
 kissed the sad man on the cheek. Fm ashamed to say 
 that he stared. Were they all mad—was he not stfii^ 
 ing with one foot in the penitentiaxy? 
 
 She drew him toward the chair, ^iWng to Craae: 
 <^ill yon please tell Mr. Mortimer the good news. I 
 am too happy; I can V 
 
 A fierce anger soxged in Mortimer's heart; it was 
 true, then-4us disgrace had been too much tor Alti« 
 
 The other had won; bat it was too oraal to kiss him. 
 
 Crane faced about, and coming forward, held out hu 
 hand to the man of distrust I hope yonll Ibigive me." 
 
 Mortimer sprang to his feet, tboftag baek his ehdr 
 violently, and stood ersct» drawn to his fall hfl|gM» his 
 lii^ band clenched iUmely at his side. "Sbaku 
 bands? No^ a thousand times no!" he mnttered to 
 himself. 
 
 Crane saw the action, and his own hand drovmed. 
 Terhaps I ask too much," he said, quietly; "^wronged 
 you—" " 
 
 Mortimer set his teeth and waited. Theie weit gnat 
 beads of perspiration on his forehead, and his braad 
 
 [400] 
 
CHAPTBK FORTY-FIVE 
 
 diett wt hit breath whiitling through oontracted nof- 
 trili. ▲ pretty misdirected pasiioii wu playiog 
 him. This was why they had sent for him — ^the girl 
 he would have staked his life on had been brought to 
 believe in his goOt, and had been won over to his rivaL 
 Ah-Hi new tlMnght; M» mind, almost diseased by nn- 
 jnst acensatioa, prompted it— perhaps it was to sare 
 him from ponishment that Allis had consented to be- 
 come Crane's wife. 
 
 'fBnt I belieted yon f-iilty—** Mortimer started as 
 Chnme said this— '4iow I kzu>w that you are innocent, 
 laak— " 
 
 ICoartimer staggered back a step and canght at Hie 
 chair to steady himself. He repeated mechanically the 
 other's words : 'Ton know Fm innocent f** 
 
 "Yes, Tire found the guilty man." 
 
 Tben Alan— di, tlra poor lad t Ifs a mistake— yon 
 are wrong. The boy di^'t take the money— I took ii" 
 
 Crane loolred at him in admiration, an indulgent 
 anile on his lips. 
 
 'Vonsense^ my dear sirP he exclaimed, dryly; ''Alaa 
 did not take the money— ^nmtber did yon. Cass took it^ 
 and yon wasted a day of the bank's time ooreiing the 
 oime lor him." 
 
 *'Ca8S took it ?" asked Mortimer in a daied way, look- 
 ing i^om Crane to Allis. 
 
 *nres; he has ccmlessed, so yon see he's ahead of yon 
 in tiiat line." He went on, speaking hurriedly: *^ ask 
 you to f oxgive me now for my suspidtms. Your inno- 
 oenoe is completely established. Yon acted like a hero 
 in trying to shield Alan Porter, and I like men of that 
 stamp. The thousand dollars you paid in will be re- 
 itondtoyou; it is yours. We will devise some scheme 
 
 1401] 
 
THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 for deiring up the matter u far m yonr good name is 
 ooncemed that will shield poor Caag from people who 
 hare no bnsiiieti in this dtait.'* 
 
 ''But how did Cass manage to get the note?" 
 
 Tonnd it on the floor of the Tault, he says." 
 
 **l d<m't see how it could have fallen ont of the box, 
 because the three bills were pinned to tiie note." 
 
 Crane drew forth a pocket booJc, and opening it todc 
 out the bill that had been stolen. He examined ii 
 closely, holding it up in front of the window. 
 
 "I think you are mistaken/' he said, "there are no 
 pin holes in this<bill; I see/' he continued, 'Hhe pin had 
 not gone through this one ; being detadied, in handling 
 the box, it has slipped out." 
 
 "It must have/' concurred Mortimer. "I remember 
 in putting the box in the compartment once I had to 
 turn it on its edge ; ike bill being loose, as you say, has 
 slipped to the floor, and as the vault was dark I did not 
 notice it." 
 
 "It doesn't matter," added Crane. "I must go now. 
 Good-bye, Miss Allis." 
 
 Tar]di^ to Mortimer he held out his hand. 
 
 "Good-bye, and long happincM to you both," he said; 
 "I trust you will think kindly of me and poor Cass. I 
 am sure we are sorry for what has been done." 
 
 As Crane went down the stairs he wondered why he 
 had coupled himself with Cass. Was the diffoence so 
 slij^t— had they been together in the same boat up to 
 the point of that siUy, fantastic dream. Perhaps th^ 
 had. 
 
 r40«T 
 
XLVI 
 
 With the going of Crane an awkward restraint came 
 oyer the two who were left; the man who had suffered 
 so much for the woman's sake, and the gii4 who had 
 endnTored so much. 
 
 He was like a man suddenly thmst mto a new world 
 of freedom; he indulged in a physical manifestation 
 of its exhilaration, drinking in a long, deep draught of 
 the dover-scented i until his great hmgs sighed with 
 the plethora. It s( ted a lifetime that he had lived in 
 tltt noisome abnospnere of a fdon's celL But now the 
 crime had dropped from him; a free man in every 
 sense of the wwd, he could straighten himself up and 
 drink of the air that was without taint. 
 
 Allis watched Mortimer curiously; she was too happy 
 to speak— just to lo«.' upon him standing there, her 
 undefiled god, her heru, with his heroism known and 
 ft|q[>lauded, was a suffusing ecstasy. He was so great, so 
 noUe, that anything Ab might say would be inane, 
 tawdry, inconsequoit; so she waited, jMtiently happy, 
 taking no count of time, nor the sunshine, nor the lUt 
 of ib» birds, nor even the dissolution of conventionality 
 in ihB unsupervised tete-a-tete. 
 
 The ecstatic magnetism of congenial sUenoe hM al- 
 ways a potency, and its spdl crept into Mortimer's 
 soul and laid embargo on hu tongue. He crossed ovor 
 to Allis, and taking her slender hand in hu own, 
 cxouched down on the floor beside her chair, and looked 
 
rt 
 
 THOROUGHBREDS 
 
 up into hn hm, jwt m « gnat St Bernard mi^liait 
 done, inoapeble of eriioaltting the wealth of lore and 
 gratitude and fdthfnlneia that was in hia heart 
 
 Even then the girt did not ipeak. She di«v the 
 num's atrong rag^Bd head doee np to her fbfle» and 
 nettled her dieek againit hit. Lo?e without wwdi; 
 kve greater than words. It wae like a fdry dream; if 
 cither ^efca tiie gentle gwaamer web^ it would flotl 
 away lika aUt, and of needs thej nrast talk of tib 
 miieiy that had passed. 
 
 In the end the giri spoke flrtt, tsyiag Uk» a ^% fla 
 having a range of bat few words, Tonare humr now. 
 my hero?* , 
 
 '^oo happj-i almost fear to wake and find thai 3ha 
 Men eoeamnig:'^ 
 
 ShakissedMm. 
 
 'Yes, H^ieaV* he answered ;<% dreams happiness la 
 notsepositifaas^ua^ Yoa did not donhtr he oaeiied. 
 
 ''Ifefer.'* 
 
 *Tott would hat» waited?" 
 
 "Forever." 
 
 "And now^-and now, we most still wait— * 
 
 «irot fbtetw.*' 
 
 They MODsd of the wondofU jMcramaey the gods 
 had nsed to set their lives to the sweet mnsic of holi- 
 ness. How Lausanne the Despised had saved Ring- 
 wood to her lather; how he had won Alan's supposed 
 price of redemption for Mortimer; how he had aiood 
 sturdy and tme to the girl of mndi fai^ and all gen- 
 ihness. And the room baesme a crypt of omfMonal 
 wbm she, in penitenee, tdd of her ride on the aallant 
 Cbsetnnt '^ 
 
 [40*] 
 
CHAPTER FORTT-SIX 
 
 Jwt ft ipftB of Fftt0^ft hand from those two hftppy 
 Bwtftlft, ftnd twioo the MUid had tiftod throngh the hour 
 l^am, Mt ft man ftU ftkme in hit chftmber. On hia 
 tdbk wfta the dnat of aoUtarineaa; and with hia linger 
 hewroteinitToiever." Bat he looked fearlenlyacrofls 
 the board, for there lat no grinning demon of tempta- 
 tion, nor remorae, nor fear. But a fragrance as of 
 likea and of iweat dorer coming through an open win- 
 dow waa in hia noetrik; and in his mtmory was the 
 ##iu of ft face he loved, made like nnto an angel's 
 iPl gratitade, and on his forehead still burned, like a 
 piojfying fire, a kiss that reached down into Ids aonl 
 s&d fined him with the joj of thsnkfolnesa. 
 
 [4M4