He had passed the flag. Lizzette and Trombine were already at the wire, but poor Troup--his mare had never been able to settle after her wild break, and she caught the flag square in the face. The crowd met the old pacer with a yell of delight. He had not been shut out--marvel of marvels! It was getting interesting indeed. Bud and Jack met him with water and a blanket. How proud they were! But the heavy old cart had told on Ben Butler. He panted like a hound, he staggered and was distressed. "He'll get over that," said the old driver cheerily to Bud's tearful gaze--"he ain't used to it yet--ten years, think of it," and Jack led Ben Butler blanketed away. The old man looked at the summary the judges had hung up. It was: _1st Heat:_ _Trumps, 1st_; _Lizzette, 2nd_; _Ben Butler, 3rd_; _Trombine distanced._ _Time_, 2:17-1/2. Then he heard a man swearing elegantly. It was Col. Troup. He was sitting in his sulky in front of the grand stand and talking to Travis and the genial Flecker: "A most unprofessional thing, gentlemen,--damned unprofessional, sah, to shut me out. Yes, sah, to shut out a gentleman, sah, an' the first heat, sah, with his horse on a break." "What!" said Flecker excitedly--"you, Col'nel? Shut out--why, I thought it was the old pacer." "I swear I did, too, Colonel," said Travis apologetically. "I heard something rattling and galloping along--I thought it was the old pacer and I drove like the devil to shut him out!" "It was me, sah, me! damned unprofessional, sah; my mare throwed a boot!" He walked around and swore for ten minutes. Then he quieted down and began to think. He was shut out--his money was gone. But--"By gad, sah," he said cracking his whip--"By gad I'll do it!" Ten minutes later as Ben Butler, cooled and calm, was being led out for the second heat, Col. Troup puffed boisterously up to the Bishop: "Old man, by gad, sah, I want you to use my sulky and harness. It's a hundred pounds lighter than that old ox-cart you've got. I'm goin' to he'p you, sah, beat that pair of short dogs that shets out a gentleman with his horse on a break, sah!" And that was how the old man drew first blood and came out in a new sulky and harness. How proud Ben Butler seemed to feel! How much lighter and how smoothly it ran! They got the word at the first score, Trumps and Lizzette going at it hammer and tongs--Ben Butler, as usual, trailing. The old man sat pale and ashy, but driving like the born reinsman that he was. "Steady, old hoss, steady agin'--jes' save our distance, that's all--they've done forgot us--done forgot us--don't know we're here. They'll burn up each other an' then, oh, Ben Butler, God he'p us! Cap'n Tom, Cap'n Tom an' Shiloh! Steady, whoa there!--Lord, how you're lar'nin'! How the old clip is comin' agin! Ho--hi--there ole hoss--here we are--what a bresh of speed he's got--hi--ho!" And the grand-stand was cheering again, and as the old man rode up the judges hung out: