ould discover her identity. But the boy
was too intent on trying to secure his ill-earned five hundred dollars
to think of anything else.

"Good mornin', boy," he said, cheerily. "I used to be in Dixon's stable.
It's hell; and he's a swipe. I see my boss talkin' to you just now. Did
he put you next a good thing?"

Allis nodded her head, knowingly.

"He's all right. So's the other one--the guy as has got the mun; he's
got a bank full of it. I'm on to him; his name's Crane--"

Allis started.

"You don't know him," continued the imp; "he's too slick to go messin'
about. But if the old man promised you anything, see, God blast me,
you'll git it. Not like that other skin-flint hole where you don't git
nothin'. I stand in five hundred if our horse wins the Derby."

"Do you ride him?" asked Al Mayne.

"Ride nothin'. I don't have to. I've did my job already."

"I don't believe they'll give you five hundred for nothin'," said Allis,
doubtingly, knowing that the boy's obstinate nature, if he were crossed,
would probably drive him into further explanation.

"Say, you're a stiff. What'd the ole man want you to do--pull Lauzanne?"

Allis nodded.

"I knowed it. What was the use of stoppin' the mare an' let the Chestnut
spoil the job?"

"Is that what you get the five hundred for?" asked Allis, a sudden
suspicion forcing itself upon her.

"Say, what d' you take me fer, a flat car? But she's sick, ain't she?
An' you jes' take care of the Chestnut now, an' I'll give you a hundred
out of my five, God bli' me if I don't."

As he spoke Shandy looked hastily about to see that no one was
listening, then he continued: "If you give me the double cross an'
peach, I'll split yer head open." His small eyes blazed with venomous
fury. "Besides, it won't do no good, my word's as good as yours. But
I'll give you the hundred, s'help me God! I will, if you don't ride the
Chestnut out. Mum's the word," he added, bolting suddenly, for Dixon had
entered the paddock with his horses.

With the horses also came Mike Gaynor. While their blankets were being
taken off and saddles adjusted, he came over to Allis. There was a
suppressed twinkle of subverted knowledge in his weatherbeaten eyes.

"Good mornin', Al," he said, nodding in a very dignified manner, and
putting a strong accent on the name.

Now Mike had determined to keep from the girl the fact that he had
penetrated her disguise. With proper Irish gallantry, crude as it might
be in