"And look," cried Miss Blake, "I brought you my prayer-rug!" She displayed a small Persian rug, worn and faded, evidently a thing of great age, at which Speed uttered an exclamation. "I always carry it with me, and put it in front of my bed wherever I happen to be." Berkeley Fresno, drawn by the irresistible magnetism of Miss Blake's presence, wandered in and ran his eyes over the room. Speed took the rug and examined it curiously. "It's an old-timer, isn't it? Must be one of the first settlers." "Yes. It's thousands and thousands of years old. Father picked it up somewhere in Asia." "How does it work?" queried Glass, feeling of it gingerly. "It's a very holy thing," Helen explained. "The Mohammedan stands on it facing the East and cries 'Allah!'" "Alley!" repeated the trainer. "No. Allah!" "'Allah' is the Mohammedan divinity," explained Speed. "I've got you." Glass was greatly interested. "Then he makes his prayer. It is such a sacred thing that when one's feet are on it no harm can come to one." "Well, what d'you think of that?" murmured the trainer. Fresno laughed pleasantly. "It's too bad it isn't long enough to run this footrace on." "Do you believe in the charm?" inquired Speed of Helen. "Of course I do," she answered. He laughed sceptically, whereupon Larry Glass broke in with husky accents: "Nix on the comedy! I bet it's a wizard!" His employer gazed warmly at the owner of the priceless treasure, and, taking the rug tenderly, pressed his lips to it. Fresno shook his head in disgust; the brazen methods of this person were unbearable. "Why all the colors?" asked he. "You can sing best where there is a piano. I can train best under the shadow of college emblems. I am a temperamental athlete." "You'll be a dead athlete if you don't beat this cook." The Californian was angry. "Indeed!" exclaimed his rival, airily. "That's what I remarked. Did they tell you what happened to Humpy Joe, your predecessor?" "It must have been an accident, judging from his name." At which Miss Blake tittered. She was growing to enjoy these passages at arms; they thrilled her vaguely. "The only accident connected with the affair was that Still Bill and Willie didn't have their guns." Glass started nervously. "Did these rummies want to shoot him?" he inquired. "Certainly," said Fresno. "He lost a foot-race." In spite of his assurance, J. Wallingford Speed felt a tremor of anxiety, but he laughed it off, saying: "One would think a foot- race in this country was a pearl necklace." "These cowboys ain't good losers, eh?" queried Glass. "It's win or die out here." During the ensuing pause Mrs. Keap took occasion to call Speed aside. "I have something to contribute to the training-quarters if you will help me bring it out," said she. The young man bowed. "Most gladly." "We'll be back in a little while," the chaperon announced to the others, and a moment later, when she and Speed had reached the veranda of the house, she paused.