e to get home. Wasn't it dreadful?"

"Indeed it was."

John drew a long breath, and fidgeted inwardly. They had reached the
stone fence bounding the garden, and he seized his chance.

"Let me help you over!" he cried, leaping to the flat top of the fence
and extending his hand.

She took it, and allowed herself to be drawn up. Then he descended and
swung her to the ground with her hands in his. A gently sloping,
slightly wooded hill stretched up before them, and as they began the
leisurely ascent she spoke again.

"You know that local news comes to us rather slowly, and we have just
learned of what you did to Mr. Marston--that day."

Her voice was low, and she did not look at him.

John's face darkened, but he did not answer on the moment.

"I felt that I should speak to you," went on Julia; "it was because of
me you did it. You were very brave."

Her face was aflame now.

"Yes," he replied. "The cur had mistreated you in some way, and I could
not stand it!"

Here was his chance to go ahead and tell her all, for there was no
possibility of interruption. But he did not speak. Why, he could not
say. They walked on in silence. Soon they were going down a rain-washed
hill-side where it was necessary he should assist her. He offered her
his hand without speaking, and she took it dumbly. So they reached the
level again, and went towards the fair ground, now only a short distance
off. They halted in front of the grandstand. Several horses were on the
track, but their eyes were quickly drawn to the lithe, graceful figure
of The Prince. He had just come from the track stables, and was walking
down the home stretch with a withered, monkey-like figure perched upon
his back. Uncle Peter saw the twain, and guided the colt up to the low
fence enclosing the track.

"Well, Uncle Peter, are we too late?" asked Glenning.

The old fellow removed his tattered hat, and bowed.

"No, suh. I had jes' rid 'im out de stall. I gwi' limber 'im up
treckly."

"How is he running?" queried Julia, anxiously.

"Lak a skeered dawg, young missus!"

"What horses are those over yonder?"

"Couple o' plugs dat Deb'l Marston sont out hyar!" he replied,
contemptuously. "I'll go by dem lak dey's hitched to a pos'!"

"Are you sleeping with this horse every night, as I suggested you
should?" asked John.

"Yes, suh! Him 'n' me, we bunks tuhgedder, 'n' he has de bes' bed, too!"

"He will bear close watching, and as the time draws nearer fo