feel! How much lighter and how
smoothly it ran!

They got the word at the first score, Trumps and Lizzette going at it
hammer and tongs--Ben Butler, as usual, trailing.

The old man sat pale and ashy, but driving like the born reinsman
that he was.

"Steady, old hoss, steady agin'--jes' save our distance, that's
all--they've done forgot us--done forgot us--don't know we're here.
They'll burn up each other an' then, oh, Ben Butler, God he'p us!
Cap'n Tom, Cap'n Tom an' Shiloh! Steady, whoa there!--Lord, how
you're lar'nin'! How the old clip is comin' agin! Ho--hi--there ole
hoss--here we are--what a bresh of speed he's got--hi--ho!"

And the grand-stand was cheering again, and as the old man rode up
the judges hung out:

_2nd Heat:_ _Trumps, 1st_; _Lizzette, 2nd_; _Ben Butler, 3rd._
_Time_, 2:15-1/2.

The old man looked at it in wonder: "Two fifteen an' not shet out,
Ben Butler? Only five lengths behind? My God, can we make it--can we
make it?"

His heart beat wildly. For the first time he began to hope.

Trumps now had two heats. As the race was best three out of five, one
more heat meant that Flecker of Tennessee would win the race and the
purse. But when the old man glanced at Trumps, his experienced eye
told him the gallant gelding was all out--he was distressed
greatly--in a paroxyism of thumps. He glanced at Lizzette. She was
breathing freely and was fresh. His heart fell.

"Trumps is done fur, Ben Butler, but Lizzette--what will Travis
do?--Ah, ole hoss, we're up ag'in it!"

It was too true, as the next heat proved. Away Trumps and Lizzette
went, forgetful of all else, while the old man trailed behind,
talking to, soothing, coaxing the old horse and driving him as only a
master could.

"They're at it ag'in--ole hoss, what fools! Whoa--steady there!
Trumps is done fur, an' you'll see--No sand left in his crops,
cooked--watch an' see, oh, my, Ben Butler--there--he's up now--up an'
done fur--Go now--move some--hi--"

Trumps and Lizzette had raced it out to the head of the stretch. But
Trumps was not equal to the clip which Travis had made cyclonic,
knowing the horse was sadly distressed. Trumps stood it as long as
flesh and blood could, and then jumped into the air, in a
heart-broken, tired break. It was then that the old man began to
drive, and moving like well-balanced machinery, the old pacer caught
again the spirit of his youth, as the old time speed came back, and
leaving Trumps behind he even