t
nurse the Bay, an' let the others fight the Indian. But don't loaf an'
let Lauzanne get near you, fer he can keep up a puddlin' gait all day.
There ain't nothin' else in the race I'm afraid of; there ain't one of
them can last a mile an' a half." Then he added, with a disagreeable
chuckle--it was like the slobbering laugh of a hyena--"I miss my guess
if the boy on Lauzanne kills himself tryin' to win anyway. He seems a
fair lad, but you can ride rings 'round him, Bill."

"I'll put up a good ride on The Dutchman, an' I think we'll ketch the
Judge's eye," replied Westley. "It doesn't seem to stand for it that a
stable-boy on a bad horse like Lauzanne is goin' to beat me out."

"The boss says you're to have two thousand fer winnin', Westley, so
don't make no mistake. I wasn't goin' to tell you this afore you went
out, fer fear it'd make you too eager. Many a race's been thrown away
by a boy bein' too keen, an' makin' his run too early in the game; but
you've a good head and might as well know what you're to have. There's
the bugle; get up."

Eager hands stripped the blanket that had been thrown over The Dutchman;
Westley was lifted into the saddle, and the gallant Bay led out by
Langdon.

In front strode White Moth; one by one the others, and last, seventh,
Allis's fatal number, lagged Lauzanne, lazily loafing along as though he
regretted leaving the stall.

As the horses passed to the course, Crane, who had followed The Dutchman
to the gate, raised his eyes from scanning Lauzanne to the rider on his
back. It was just a look of languid interest in the apprentice boy Dixon
had put up instead of such a good jockey as Redpath. The face rivetted
his attention; something in the line of the cheek recalled a face he had
constantly in view.

"For an instant I thought that was Alan Porter on Lauzanne," he said
to Langdon, who was at his elbow. "A strange fancy--I'm going up to the
stand to watch the race:"

"It's all roight but the win now," said Mike to Dixon. "I'm goin' in be
the Judges' box to watch the finish. You'll be helpin' the b'y pass the
scales, Andy."

As Allis passed the Judges' Stand in the parade she cast a quick,
furtive look toward the people on the lawn. She seemed pilloried on an
eminence, lifted up in pitiless prominence; would anyone detect her at
the last moment? Hanging over the rail in the very front she saw a pale
face that struck a chill of fear to her heart--it was Mortimer's.
She had not eve