“A neighbor of ours told me about it,” she said. “I am glad I happened to think of it.” “I should think so, indeed! But for that timely thought of yours, we should probably have spent the day there, awaiting that brute’s pleasure!” He knew that this was not so, but he suddenly found himself possessed of a consuming desire to do homage to this girl. And to tell the truth, she looked not unused to homage. Indeed, she was far more natural and at her ease, now that she was being made much of and paid court to, than she had been, when neglected and left alone. There could be no doubt as to which of these conditions was her accustomed element. When the racing began, the general interest centered on the track, of course, and as the different horses were led out, Carter showed and expressed such a knowingness on the subject that all the men listened with visible interest to what she had to say. The remarks of the other women sounded the merest _banalités_ in comparison, for this little country maiden knew a horse as she knew a friend. She was wildly excited over the first race, and had the good fortune to pick out the winner. As a consequence, the men all insisted on her betting on the second one, putting up gloves and candy recklessly. To their surprise, their overtures were promptly snubbed, the little Virginian looking so hurt at such a proposition that her big eyes showed a suspicion of tears. The other ladies of the party, however, took up the bets with avidity, though their opportunities were decidedly more limited. At last the great race of the day was called. A grey horse named Quicksilver was the hot favorite in it, and was to be ridden by a colored jockey. This last fact caught Carter’s attention, and sent her thoughts flying wistfully Southward, and she was further interested because he wore the Confederate colors--white and red. She could not see his face, but it was easy to distinguish the silver-grey horse, and, to her delight, it came in first, though pushed hard by another horse named Hautboy. The second heat was even more exciting, for now Quicksilver came tearing along the home stretch, neck and neck with Hautboy. The two ran together superbly, their jockeys poised like birds upon their backs, but just before the judges’ stand was reached, there was a wild plunging and collision, and Hautboy came in ahead. And then began a scene of frantic excitement. The little mulatto who had ridden Quicksilver was in a state of fury, bordering upon insanity. He vowed that Hautboy’s jockey had used some trickery, and appealed to the judges, who refused to sustain him. At this he went simply beside himself, and tossing away his whip, declared he would not ride the other heat. Threats, expostulations, bribes, oaths, abusive epithets, coaxing cajoleries were used in vain. He was simply maddened with fury, and stubbornly adhered to his refusal.