ic name--"_Tres Jolie_," he shrieked:
"_Oh, Baby Doll_!" It was Blister--and I marveled.

[Illustration: "Tres Jolie!" he shrieked.]

I had seen him stand and lose his all without a sign of feeling. But
now he raved and cursed and prayed and plead with his "Girlie!"--his
"Baby Doll!", and with the last atom of her strength his sweetheart
answered the call.

She reached, heaven alone knows how, the flank of the flying black, and
inch by inch she crept along that flank until they struggled head to
head.

"Oh, you black dog!" howled Blister, wild triumph in his voice.
"You've got to beat a race hoss _now_!"

As though he heard, the black horse flattened to his work. Almost to
the end he held her there, eye meeting eye. The task was just beyond
him. Even as they shot under the wire, he faltered. But it was very
close, and the shrieking hysterical grand-stand grew still and waited.

I glanced at Blister. He was leaning forward, almost crouching, his
face ashen, his eyes on the number board.

Then slowly the numbers swung into view, and "_1, 3, 7,_" I read.

There was a roar like the falling of ten thousand forest trees. These
words flashed through my mind. "We'll know about _her_ when she goes
the route, carryin' weight against class." . . . . Yes, we knew about
_her_--now!

I saw Mrs. Dillon's lips move at Uncle Jake's ear. He raised his
sightless eyes to the sky, his head nodding. It was as though he
visioned paradise and found it good indeed.

I saw Blister's face turn from gray to red, from red to purple. The
tenseness went out of his body, and suddenly he was gone, fighting his
way through the crowd toward the steps.

I saw Judge Dillon's big arm gather in his trembling wife, and he held
her close while the heavens rocked.

These things I saw through a blur, and then I felt Miss Goodloe sway at
my side. She clutched at the railing, missed it and sank slowly into
her seat. I but glimpsed a white face in which the eyes had changed
from blue to violet, when it was covered by two slender gloved hands.

"Are you ill?" I called, as I bent above her.

She shook her head.

"It was too much," I barely heard.

I stood bewildered, and then my stupid mind cast out a soulless image
that it held and fixed the true one there.

"I rarely make this kind of a fool of myself," she said at last.

"That I can quite believe," I replied, smiling down at her. She
returned the smile with one that held a fi