"What sort of jockey is Manders?" I asked Blister.

"Good heady boy," was the reply.

"Virginia, oh, Virginia, isn't she a lamb?" gasped Mrs. Dillon.

"She's a stuck-up miss," said Miss Goodloe in an even tone, and I
almost hated her.

Number 2 I failed to see as they paraded past.

Number 3 was a gorgeous black, with eyes of fire, powerful in neck and
shoulders, and with a long driving hip. He was handsome as the devil
and awe-inspiring. Applause from the stands likewise greeted him,
though it was feeble to the howl that had met the favorite.

"There's the one we've got to beat," Blister stated.

"Good horse," said Judge Dillon quietly.

3. Rob Roy--bl. s. by Tempus Fugit--dam Marigold. Henry L. Whitley,
New York City. (Dawson--green and white.)

I read. I followed him with my eyes and wished him somewhere else. He
looked so overpowering--he and the millions behind him. . . .

At last, a quarter of a mile away, they halted in a gorgeous shifting
group. And the taut elastic webbing of the barrier that was to hold
them from their flight a little longer, was stretched before them.

They surged against it like a parti-colored wave, and then receding,
surged again, but always the narrow webbing held them back. I found
the blue and gold. It was almost without motion--it did not shift and
whirl with the rest.

"Ain't she the grand actor?" said Blister with delight. "The best
mannered thing at the barrier ever I saw."

Then for a moment I lost the colors that had held my gaze. They were
blotted out and crowded back by other colors. In that instant the wave
conquered. It grew larger and larger. It was coming like the wind.
But where was the blue and gold?

I was answered by a heaven-cleaving shout that changed in the same
breath to a despairing groan. It was as though a giant had been
stricken deep while roaring forth his battle-cry. The thousands had
seen what I had missed--their hopes in an instant were gone. In the
stillness that followed, a harsh whisper reached me.

"_She's left_! _She's left_!" Then an uncanny laugh. The rock had
broken.

The wave was greeted by silence. A red bay thundered in the lead.
Then came a demon, hard held, with open mouth, and number 3 shone from
his raven side. Followed a flying squadron all packed together, their
hoofs rolling like drums. And then came aching lengths, and my eyes
filled with tears and something gripped my heart and squeezed it as
Tre