It was nearly 5 o'clock when the bugle sounded calling the horses to the post. The long procession of fifteen, led by the outrider on a gray horse, garbed in a fiery red jacket, made an imposing picture. The gay silks of the jockeys, with the verdant infield for a background, handed just the right touch of color to the scene. Down past the grandstand and clubhouse they pranced, and here they were all given cheers. It takes Kentucky racing audiences to grow enthusiastic, and they know how to do it. On the way to the post Ticket, the favorite, was the most nervous one of the lot, prancing and dancing throughout the stretch. All others were a well behaved lot. It took the starter four minutes to get them in alignment, and then the grand old shout of "They're off!" shot out from the grandstand and was spent on the distant green hills. Ticket dashed into the lead, but Stargazer soon assumed command, with Berlin forcing the pace at his side. They swept past the grandstand at a stirring clip, the field strung out as the riders jockeyed for positions. On went Stargazer, his dazzling pace tearing at the hearts of those who attempted to follow it. Berlin curled up from the effort and dropped back, beaten, as the band sped up the back stretch. Ticket still held on and it was plain that he was the horse the winner would have to beat. As they rounded the turn by the old clubhouse Rickety made his move. He seemed to have the speed of his party and rapidly mowed down his opposition. At the quarter pole Rickety flashed in front, but it was only for an instant. He appeared to suddenly weaken and Ticket headed the procession. Meanwhile one of the cleverest riders in America was nestling low over the neck of a big chestnut colt. As the field passed the grandstand the first time he was in tenth place. There he continued around the curve and into the back stretch. Out in front he could see the flying leaders, but his mount was running smoothly, and as they passed the half mile pole he noticed he was shortening the distance that he must make up. He was satisfied with his position. But suddenly every hope was threatened. He was borne over against the rail and his mount was knocked off his stride. But Borel did not despair. He took back until the way was clear and passed the mile mark in sixth place. The flying leaders swung a trifle wide into the stretch and left an opening on the rail. Borel did not hesitate. Along the white fence he took Omar. In a couple of jumps his mount was at Ticket's rump. Steadily he moved toward the front, past saddle girth and withers. He soon was stretching fiery nostrils alongside the bay colt's neck, and then Omar Khayyam's blaze face showed in front, and in the last hundred yards commenced to draw away and swept under the wire winner by two lengths.