s lips and I saw
Mollie's face aflame with fury and her eyes darting lightning--no
longer at Marston now, but at the Blight. The mountain girl held nothing
against the city girl because of the Wild Dog's infatuation, but that
her own lover, no matter what the Hon. Sam said, should give his homage
also to the Blight, in her own presence, was too much. Mollie looked
around no more. Again the Hon. Sam rose.

"Love of ladies," he shouted, "splintering of lances! Stand forth,
gallant knights. Fair eyes look upon your deeds! Toot again, son!"

Now just opposite the grandstand was a post some ten feet high, with a
small beam projecting from the top toward the spectators. From the end
of this hung a wire, the end of which was slightly upturned in line with
the course, and on the tip of this wire a steel ring about an inch in
diameter hung lightly. Nearly forty yards below this was a similar
ring similarly arranged; and at a similar distance below that was
still another, and at the blast from the Hon. Sam's herald, the
gallant knights rode slowly, two by two, down the lists to the western
extremity--the Discarded Knight and the Knight of the Cumberland,
stirrup to stirrup, riding last--where they all drew up in line, some
fifty yards beyond the westernmost post. This distance they took that
full speed might be attained before jousting at the first ring, since
the course--much over one hundred yards long--must be covered in seven
seconds or less, which was no slow rate of speed. The Hon. Sam arose
again:

"The Knight of the Holston!"

Farther down the lists a herald took up the same cry and the good knight
of Athelstanic build backed his steed from the line and took his place
at the head of the course.

With his hickory truncheon the Hon. Sam signed to his trumpeter to sound
the onset.

"Now, son!" he said.

With the blare of the trumpet Athelstane sprang from his place and came
up the course, his lance at rest; a tinkling sound and the first ring
slipped down the knight's spear and when he swept past the last post
there was a clapping of hands, for he held three rings triumphantly
aloft. And thus they came, one by one, until each had run the course
three times, the Discarded jousting next to the last and the Knight of
the Cumberland, riding with a reckless Cave, Adsum air, the very last.
At the second joust it was quite evident that the victory lay between
these two, as they only had not lost a single ring, and when the