But always Sawny held his position, lengthening his stride as much as the occasion called for. He could lengthen it much more, if there were need, as he knew very well; as he knew there soon would be. Mr. Gilfeather's horse--and Mr. Gilfeather himself--got more nervous every second. The horse, we may presume, was in despair. Every effort that he had made to shake Sawny off had failed. He hung about Mr. Gilfeather's shoulder with the persistence of a green-head. In these positions, the horses passed down between the yelling crowds. Mr. Gilfeather may have heard the yelling, but Everett did not. It fell upon his ears unheeded, like the sound of the sea or of the wind in the trees. He was intent upon but one thing now, and that thing was not the noise of the multitude. When there was but a quarter of a mile to go, Sawny felt a little more pressure upon the bit and heard Everett's voice speaking low. "Now, stretch yourself, Sawny," said that voice cheerfully. And Sawny stretched himself to his full splendid stride and the sound of that crash of hoofs came a little faster. It passed Mr. Gilfeather's shoulder and he had a sight of red nostrils spread wide; then of Sawny's clean-cut head and intelligent eye. Did that eye wink at him? Then came the lean neck and then the shoulder: a skin like satin, with the muscles working under it with the regularity of a machine; then the body--but Mr. Gilfeather had no time for further observation out of the corner of his eye. His horse had heard, too, and knew what was happening; and when Mr. Gilfeather urged him on to greater speed, he tried to go faster and he broke. That was the end of it. He broke, he went into the air, he danced up and down; and Sawny, who never was guilty of that crime, went by him like a streak. Everett smiled as he passed Mr. Gilfeather, and his smile was a little less bored than usual. "If I had known that this was to be a running-race," he said; but Mr. Gilfeather lost the rest of Everett's remark, for Sawny had carried him out of hearing. It chanced that they had passed the Hazens' sleigh just before Mr. Gilfeather's horse broke. Sally watched the horses as they passed, with Sawny gaining at every stride. Her face glowed and she turned to Fox. "There!" she said. "Now you've seen him. Isn't he splendid?" "Who? Mr. Morton?" Fox asked innocently. "He does look rather splendid. That must be a very expensive coat and the--" Sally smiled. "It was Sawny that I meant." "Oh," said Fox. "Everett might be included, no doubt," she continued. "No doubt," Fox agreed. "He is part of it, although there is a popular opinion that Sawny could do it all by himself, if he had to." "Having been well trained," Fox suggested. Sally nodded. "Having been well trained. And Everett trained him, I believe." Fox was more thoughtful than the occasion seemed to call for. "It speaks well for his ability as a trainer of horses." "It does." Sally seemed thoughtful, too.