mother's welfare
above all these trivial questionings; did not the end justify the means;
might not her success, if the fates in pity gave her any, save her
from--from--she did not even formulate in thought the contingency,
for there stood the living embodiment of it-Crane; everything seemed
crowding her into the narrow confines of her sacrificial crypt.

Crane had spoken to her on his entry. As she was writing he had
continued his discussion of the race with Dixon; perhaps, even--it was a
hopeful thought, born 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 I'll 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 affection for
her. But the Trainer had passed out before she could muster sufficient
moral courage to put in execution her half-formed resolve.

"I wanted to speak about that wager on Diablo," began Crane. A thrill
of relief shot through the girl's heart. Why had be troubled himself to
come to her over such a trifling matter--a pair of gloves, perhaps half
a dozen pairs even.

"I put the bet on some time ago," he continued, "when Diablo was at a
long price. It was only a trifle, as we agreed upon--" Allis noticed
that he laid particular stress upon "agreed." "But it has netted you
quite a nice sum, three thousand seven hundred and fifty dollars."

Crane said this in a quiet voice, without unction; but it startled the
girl--she stared in blank amazement. Her companion was evidently waiting
for her to say something; seemed to expect an exclamation of joyous
approval. She noticed that the gray eyes she so distrusted had taken on
that distasteful peeping expression, as though he were watching her walk
into a trap.

"I cannot take it," answered Allis, decisively, after a pause.

Crane raised his hand in mild protest.

"It was good of you, kind; but how could I accept a large sum of money
like that when I am not entitled to it?"

"You are--it's 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!"

"Don't be foolishly sensitive, Miss Allis. Think what your father lost
whe