Frank and Neb rushed forward to lift from the winner the victorious
jockey, who by such superb riding as that track had never seen before,
had snatched victory from defeat after the mare had been delayed in the
bad pocket which, from his distant point of survey, had alarmed the
Colonel. The jockey eluded them, however and, with face averted, hurried
with the splendid mare back to the paddock, and there disappeared,
disregarding the crowd's wild shouts of acclamation.
Holton stood near Frank, white-faced and angry. Old Neb, as he ran
beside Queen Bess, looked back at him and grinned.
CHAPTER XVIII
Miss Alathea, on the day after the great race, sat waiting for the
Colonel in the handsome old library of Woodlawn, worrying about her
unconventionalities of the preceding day. When she heard his voice, out
in the hall, telling Neb to carry certain bundles into the library and
knew, of course, that he would follow after them almost immediately, her
heart throbbed fiercely in her bosom. She shrank back into a window
recess, too embarrassed to face him without first pausing to gather up
her courage.
"Put 'em there, Neb," said the Colonel, pointing to the table, and then,
after the packages had been arranged to suit him: "Here, take this, and
drink to the jockey that rode Queen Bess."
"T'ankee, Marse Cunnel, t'ankee," Neb replied, pocketing the tip. "Oh,
warn't it gran'? An' yo' climbed de tree, arter all!"
"Sh! Clear out, you rascal!"
Neb did not go at once, but, with the boldness of an old and privileged
retainer, stood there, chuckling. "Climbed de tree!" he gurgled. "An'
so did Miss 'Lethe!"
With this he slapped his knee, and, laughing boisterously, left the room
as the embarrassed lady of the house stepped out of her concealment.
"Ah, Miss 'Lethe," said the Colonel, "good morning."
"I expected you back from Lexington last night, Colonel." She looked at
him reproachfully.
"Stayed over to celebrate, my dear," the Colonel answered. "Stayed to
celebrate the victory." With a beaming face he advanced upon the lady,
plainly planning an embrace.
But she eluded him. "Wait a moment, Colonel. On what did you celebrate?"
The Colonel laughed. "Oh, I didn't forget. I celebrated on ginger-ale
and soda-pop."
Miss Alathea smiled with happy satisfaction. She eluded him no longer,
but, herself, went to him and bestowed the kiss.
"I doubt if my stomach ever recovers from the insult," said the Colonel,
delighted by the kiss but remembering the mildness of the beverages
which had marked his jubilation. "Miss 'Lethe, a julep--a
mint-julep--before I perish."
With a smile she crossed the room to where, upon the side-board (a
side-board is an adjunct of all well-regulated libraries in old
Kentucky), a snowy damask cloth concealed glorious somethings. With a
graceful sweep she took it from them and revealed three juleps in their
glory of green-crowns. "Look, Colonel!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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