ell," she blushingly stammered, "I sometimes forget to be good, and
then I can't help having them--tantrums, you know. Just like the
little girl with the curl who, when she was bad, was horrid. January,
are you ever horrid?"

He looked self-conscious. "Law, missy, I nebber tinks I am, but Titus
'lows I am, but he don't know much nohow."

Dolly whinnied again, which recalled Beth's thoughts to the horse.
"Who owns Dolly, January?"

"Law, missy, didn't I tole yo' dat she 'longs to yer paw now?"

Beth was so excited that she jumped to her feet, and began to clap her
hands.

Her antics made her parents and Marian smile as they came from the
hotel.

"Mamma, she's our horse. January said so. Dolly, do you like me?"

Dolly pricked up her ears as if she understood, and whinnied.

"She wants some sugar," declared Beth, believing that she understood
horse language. She took a stale piece of candy out of her pocket, and
gave it to Dolly. This attention sealed a never-ending friendship
between the two.

"Dolly's the surprise, isn't she?" asked Beth, running up to her
father. He smiled enigmatically, and that was all the answer she
received.

Meantime, January, hat in hand, was bowing with Chesterfieldian
politeness to Mrs. Davenport and Marian.

"All aboard," cried Mr. Davenport.

"Let me sit with January," begged Beth.

Marian, also, expressed a like wish. The two children, therefore,
scrambled up in front beside the driver, while Mr. and Mrs. Davenport
took the back seat.

January sat bolt upright. His dignity fitted the occasion. His
driving, however, worried Beth.

She loved to go fast. She knew no fear of horses. She would have
undertaken to drive the car of Phaeton, himself, had she been given the
chance. She had little patience to poke along, and that was exactly
what Dolly did when January drove.

"Can't she go faster?" she asked.

"She don't 'pear to go very fast, does she?" said January mildly.
"Missy Beth, yo' jes' wait until her racing blood am up, and den she'll
go so fast, yo'll wish she didn't go so fast."

Beth had her doubts of this, and even of Dolly's racing blood. Its
truth, however, was to be proven by a later experience which will be
told in due course.

"Has Dolly really racing blood?" asked Marian. Although January was
sitting so straight that it seemed impossible for him to sit any
straighter, he stiffened up at least an inch.

"Racing blood? Well, I jes' 'lows s