It developed that Miss Goodloe was from Tennessee, that she was visiting the Dillons at Thistle Ridge near Lexington, and that she liked a small book of verses of which I had been guilty. It further developed that Mrs. Dillon had talked me over with an aunt of mine in Cincinnati, that we were mutually devoted to Blister, and that he had described me to her as "the most educated guy allowed loose." This last I learned as Judge Dillon and Blister discussed the derby some distance from us. "I feel awed and diffident in the presence of such learning," said Miss Goodloe almost sleepily. "Why did I neglect my opportunities at Dobbs Ferry!" "I would give a good deal to observe you when you felt diffident, Virginia," said Mrs. Dillon, with a laugh like a silver bell. "Uncle Jake!" she called, "we are going now." "I have heard of Uncle Jake," I said, as the old man felt his way toward us. "Yes?" said Mrs. Dillon. "He insisted upon coming to _see_ the derby." She dwelt ever so lightly upon the verb, and Uncle Jake caught it. "No, Miss Sally," he explained, "dat ain' 'zackly what I mean. Hit's like dis--I just am boun' foh to hyah all de folks shout glory when ma Honey-bird comes home!" "What if she ain't in front, Uncle Jake?" said Blister, helping the old man into the motor. "Don't you trifle with me, boy!" replied Uncle Jake severely. Derby day dawned as fair as turquoise sky and radiant sun could make it. I had slept badly. Until late the night before I had absorbed a haze of cigar smoke and the talk in the hotel lobby. Despite Blister's confidence I had become panicky as I listened. There had been so much assurance about several grave, soft-spoken horsemen who had felt that at the weight the favorite could not win. "Nevah foh a moment, suh," one elderly well-preserved Kentuckian had said, "will I deny the Dillon mare the right to be the public's choice. But she has nevah met such a field of hosses as this, suh--and she lacks the bone to carry top weight against them." There had been many nods of approval at this statement, and I had gone to the Dillon party for consolation. But when I reached their apartments I had found the judge more silent than ever, and Mrs. Dillon as nervous as myself. Only Miss Goodloe appeared as usual. Her drawl was soothingly indolent. She seemed entirely oblivious of any tenseness in the atmosphere, and I caught myself wondering what was behind those lazy-lidded blue eyes. Back in the lobby once more I had found it worse than ever--so many were against the favorite. I had about decided that our hopes were doomed, when a call boy summoned me to the desk with the statement, "Gentleman to see you, sir." There I had found Blister and I fairly hugged him as he explained that he had dropped in on the way to his "joint," as he called his hotel. "Listenin' to the knockers?" he asked, reading me at once. "Furget it--them ole mint juleps is dead 'n' buried. You'll go dippy if you fall fur that stuff."