This peril was perceived by one of the crowd, a tough and wiry little old man known as Jerry, who had great influence in the camp, and he now pushed his way to the front, and jumping on an upturned box, addressed the assemblage in lusty tones. Jerry was not altogether temperate in his habits, and his face and manner, to-day, indicated an ardor and excitement not wholly to be attributed to the coming great race. He was in the highest good humor, however, and his face fairly kindled, as he said: “Time for the race, boys! Clear the track! Never you mind, old girl,” to the elder of the sisters. “You’re all right. Pull off to one side there, driver, and let the sisters watch the race; and if Whirlwind wins it, we’ll give the old girl a send-off that’ll make her heart jump out of her body.” The crowd answered with a cheer, and the current of interest was again turned toward the race track, down which Whirlwind, ridden by Bill Will, was now returning from a gentle preliminary canter. Bill Will had been at the other side of the course when the sisters had arrived, and now, as he rode up to the starting-point, his eyes rested on these strange figures for the first time. As they did so, he turned deadly white, and his body swayed in the light saddle, so that he almost lost his balance--a fact noticed, perhaps, by but one being in all that crowd, for, to the miners, a man amounted to little, beside a horse, on this day, and they were all gazing eagerly at Whirlwind to see if he looked in condition. The person who saw only the man, and who had no consciousness of the horse, was the younger of the two sisters. Her face had turned as white as his, and now, while the attention of all the rest was fixed upon the horse, her glance met that of the rider, with a gaze of mutual consciousness. She saw him struggle to right himself, and to regain his self control, and she heard him say faintly that his throat was dry. A dozen flasks were hurriedly jerked from pockets, and held out to him. “No,” he said, “water!” and, at the sound of his voice, the little sister turned from white to burning red. A man ran quickly and brought him some water in a tin cup. Before he took it, he removed his cap, and as he bent to drink, he looked again into the little sister’s eyes, as if he pledged her thus, in silence. Then, with a powerful rallying of his forces, he drew in Whirlwind’s reins, and settled himself in his saddle, and with a low bow that might have graced a knight at a tournament, but which no one here noticed, or would have comprehended, he took his place with the other horses at the starting-point.