come in answer to prayer, ain't forgot
that half in one-one, ain't forgot yo' pious raisin', yo' pedigree.
Ain't forgot you're racin' for humanity an' a chance, ain't
forgot--there! the flag--my God and safe!"

He had passed the flag. Lizzette and Trombine were already at the
wire, but poor Troup--his mare had never been able to settle after
her wild break, and she caught the flag square in the face.

The crowd met the old pacer with a yell of delight. He had not been
shut out--marvel of marvels!

It was getting interesting indeed.

Bud and Jack met him with water and a blanket. How proud they were!
But the heavy old cart had told on Ben Butler. He panted like a
hound, he staggered and was distressed.

"He'll get over that," said the old driver cheerily to Bud's tearful
gaze--"he ain't used to it yet--ten years, think of it," and Jack led
Ben Butler blanketed away.

The old man looked at the summary the judges had hung up. It was:

_1st Heat:_ _Trumps, 1st_; _Lizzette, 2nd_; _Ben Butler, 3rd_;
_Trombine distanced._ _Time_, 2:17-1/2.

Then he heard a man swearing elegantly. It was Col. Troup. He was
sitting in his sulky in front of the grand stand and talking to
Travis and the genial Flecker:

"A most unprofessional thing, gentlemen,--damned unprofessional,
sah, to shut me out. Yes, sah, to shut out a gentleman, sah, an' the
first heat, sah, with his horse on a break."

"What!" said Flecker excitedly--"you, Col'nel? Shut out--why, I
thought it was the old pacer."

"I swear I did, too, Colonel," said Travis apologetically. "I heard
something rattling and galloping along--I thought it was the old
pacer and I drove like the devil to shut him out!"

"It was me, sah, me! damned unprofessional, sah; my mare throwed a
boot!"

He walked around and swore for ten minutes. Then he quieted down and
began to think. He was shut out--his money was gone. But--"By gad,
sah," he said cracking his whip--"By gad I'll do it!"

Ten minutes later as Ben Butler, cooled and calm, was being led out
for the second heat, Col. Troup puffed boisterously up to the Bishop:
"Old man, by gad, sah, I want you to use my sulky and harness. It's a
hundred pounds lighter than that old ox-cart you've got. I'm goin' to
he'p you, sah, beat that pair of short dogs that shets out a
gentleman with his horse on a break, sah!"

And that was how the old man drew first blood and came out in a new
sulky and harness.

How proud Ben Butler seemed to