y; "they all
seem more a matter of written agreements. In fact there's more done
on honor in racing than in any of the business gambles. A man that's
crooked in racing is sure to come to grief in the long run."

Crane shifted in his chair, and Dolman coughed deprecatingly. "For my
part," continued Porter, "I've 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
shamefully last year; a dishonest boy hauled your horse--"

"Pulled, mother," interposed Allis; "pulled father's horse, you mean."

"Perhaps, 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 continued in lament. "It'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
leg--"

"Threw a splint, mother," prompted Allis.

"I thought your father said it was his leg had something the matter with
it," argued Mrs. Porter.

"The splint was on his leg, mother dear."

"Well, 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!"
she turned to Mr. Dolman; "they burned the poor beast's leg with hot
irons--"

The minister held up his hands in horror.

"It didn't give him as much pain as the doctor gave Mr. Mortimer setting
his arm," declared Allis.

"But it was racing injured the horse's leg," interposed Dolman.

"But your horse has got a ringbone, Mr. Dolman," said Allis, "and a
spavin, too. I've been looking at him. That's because you drive him too
fast on hard roads. And his feet are contracted from neglect in shoeing.
It's just cruel the way that poor old horse has been neglected. Race
horses are much better taken care of."

Allis's sudden onslaught switched Mr. Dolman from the aggressive to the
defensive with great celerity.

"I confess I know very little about horses," he was forced to apologize;
then, with something of asperity, "the spiritual welfare of my
congregation takes up my entire time."

This rebuke caused a momentary silence, and Dolman, turning to Mortimer,
said, "I hope you don't approve of racing,