y flashes one
glance at the horse and rider who are so surely gaining upon him, and
his lips close in a grim line. They are half-way down the stretch, and
Mosquito's head is at the stallion's neck.

For a single moment Patsy thinks of the sick woman at home and what
that race will mean to her, and then his knees close against the
horse's sides with a firmer dig. The spurs shoot deeper into the
steaming flanks. Black Boy shall win; he must win. The horse that has
taken away his father shall give him back his mother. The stallion
leaps away like a flash, and goes under the wire--a length ahead.

Then the band thundered, and Patsy was off his horse, very warm and
very happy, following his mount to the stable. There, a little later,
Brackett found him. He rushed to him, and flung his arms around him.

"You little devil," he cried, "you rode like you were kin to that
hoss! We've won! We've won!" And he began sticking banknotes at the
boy. At first Patsy's eyes bulged, and then he seized the money and
got into his clothes.

"Goin' out to spend it?" asked Brackett.

"I'm goin' for a doctah fu' my mother," said Patsy, "she's sick."

"Don't let me lose sight of you."

"Oh, I'll see you again. So long," said the boy.

An hour later he walked into his mother's room with a very big doctor,
the greatest the druggist could direct him to. The doctor left his
medicines and his orders, but, when Patsy told his story, it was
Eliza's pride that started her on the road to recovery. Patsy did not
tell his horse's name.

ONE MAN'S FORTUNES

Part I

When Bertram Halliday left the institution which, in the particular
part of the middle west where he was born, was called the state
university, he did not believe, as young graduates are reputed to,
that he had conquered the world and had only to come into his kingdom.
He knew that the battle of life was, in reality, just beginning and,
with a common sense unusual to his twenty-three years but born out of
the exigencies of a none-too-easy life, he recognized that for him the
battle would be harder than for his white comrades.

Looking at his own position, he saw himself the member of a race
dragged from complacent savagery into the very heat and turmoil of a
civilization for which it was in nowise prepared; bowed beneath a yoke
to which its shoulders were not fitted, and then, without warning,
thrust forth into a freedom as absurd as it was startling and
overwhelming. And