she must! If she didn't then she too would have to go and
leave the ruined old gentleman, who looked so feeble leaning over the
white rail which enclosed the mile track. After much coaxing the black
colt came mincing up to her old master.

The small colored boy, as black as his mount, was bubbling over with
enthusiasm. "Dat dehby, Suh, is going to be won by ma Dixie," patting
the curved neck of the horse.

The old gentleman looked up. "Mah boy, you must remembah that Dixie
will have otheah good hawses to beat. Vixen is the favohite and very
fast, although Ah know mah little black friend heah will do heh best
to honah the purple and white," glancing proudly at the headband of
the black marvel. "Next Satahday will decide it all."

A shadow fell across the colt. Looking up, the gentleman, known as
Colonel Fairfax, saw a man dressed in a checkered suit and orange
socks. On a tie to match was a monstrous, well polished diamond, which
sparkled wickedly in the sun. The man stood staring at the stop-watch.
"Ah beg yoh pahdon, Suh, but theh anything Ah could do foah you?"

The man, hearing the question, looked up, flushing. "Youh horse is a
Derby entry?"

Colonel Fairfax eyed the horse reflectively and answered, "It all
depends on her condition, and only time can answeh that." The man
hurried away, leaving the old gentleman looking after him, a deep
frown on his face.

"Washington, Ah am a bit doubtful about this new-uh-acquaintance," he
addressed the exercise boy.

Each day, no matter how early Dixie was given her exercise, the
stranger was to be seen loitering in the distance or walking briskly
beside the track--seemingly deep in thought. His presence seemed to
trouble the Colonel, who watched his colt anxiously.

At last, the final workout. Colonel Fairfax and the unwelcome stranger
leaned over the rail, intently watching the black horse, which
appeared to have wings. The stranger, who had been seen talking to the
owner of Vixen, the favorite, annoyed the old gentleman; he was
suspicious of this flashily dressed man and did not conceal his
feelings.

Sundown, Friday, found the stable at Churchill Downs buzzing with
excitement. The favorite's stall was surrounded by interested old
racing men, who loved the thoroughbred and his sport, while a few
individuals in gaily checkered suits crowded about, listening to the
many "hunches" for business reasons only. An old man sat before Stall
No. 7. Glancing up, he noticed tw