ia carries my money," answered Porter in loyalty.

Langdon looked up, having cinched the girth tight, and took a step
toward the two men.

"Well, we both can't win," he said, half insolently; "an' I don't think
there's anything out to-day'll beat Lauzanne."

"That mare'll beat him," retorted Porter, curtly, nettled by the other's
cocksureness.

"I'll bet you one horse against the other, the winner to take both,"
cried Langdon in a sneering, defiant tone.

"I've made my bets," said Lucretia's owner, quietly.

"I hear you had an offer of five thousand for your filly, Mr. Porter,"
half queried Crane.

"I did, and I refused it."

"And here's the one that'll beat her to-day, an' I'll sell him for half
that," asserted the Trainer, putting his hand on Lauzanne's neck.

Exasperated by the persistent boastfulness of Langdon, Porter was
angered into saying, "If he beats my mare, I'll give you that for him
myself."

"Done!" snapped Langdon. "I've said it, an' I'll stick to it."

"I don't want the horse--" began Porter; but Langdon interrupted him.

"Oh, if you want to crawl."

"I never crawl," said Porter fiercely. "I don't want your horse, but
just to show you what I think of your chance of winning, I'll give you
two thousand and a half if you beat my mare, no matter what wins the
race."

"I think you'd better call this bargain off, Mr. Porter," remonstrated
Crane.

"Oh, the bargain will be off," answered John Porter; "if I'm any judge,
Lauzanne's running his race right here in the stall."

His practiced eye had summed up Lauzanne as chicken-hearted; the sweat
was running in little streams down the big Chestnut's legs, and dripping
from his belly into the drinking earth spit-spit, drip-drip; his head
was high held in nervous apprehension; his lips twitched, his flanks
trembled like wind-distressed water, 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, "You're a fair judge, an' if you're
right you get all the stuff an' no horse."

"I stand to my bargain whatever happens," Porter retorted.

At that instant the bugle sounded.

"Get up, Westley," Langdon said to his jockey, "they're going out."

As he lifted the boy to the saddle, the Trainer whispered a few concise
directions.

"Hold him steady at the post," he muttered; "I've got him a bit on edge
to-day. Get off in front and stay there; he's feelin'