The old man sat down and, as he waited, he thought. Never before had he thought so hard. Never had such a burden been put upon him. When he looked up Colonel Troup stood pale and silent before him--pale with close-drawn lips and a hot, fierce, fighting gleam in his eyes. "You've explained it, sah--" he said. Then he fumbled his pistol in his pocket. "Now--now, give me back my promise, my word. I have two thousand dollars at stake, and--and clean sport, sah,--clean sport. Give me back my word." "Sit down," said the old man quietly. The Colonel sat down so still that it was painful. He was calm but the Bishop saw how hard the fight was. Then the old man broke out: "I can't--O God, I can't! I can't _make_ a character, why should I _take_ one? It's so easy to take a word--a nod--it is gone! And if left maybe it 'ud come agin. Richard Travis--it looks bad--he may be bad--but think what he may do yet--if God but touch him? No man's so bad but that God can't touch him--change him. We may live to see him do grand and noble things--an' God will touch him," said the old man hotly, "he will yet." "If you are through with me," said Colonel Troup, coolly, "and will give me back my promise, I'll go and touch him--yes, damn him, I'll shoot him as he should be." "But I ain't gwine to give it back," smiled the old man. Colonel Troup flushed: "What'll you do, then? Let him rob you an' me, sah? Steal my two thousand, and Flecker's? Your purse that you've already won--yours--yours, right this minute? Rob the public in a fake race, sah? You've won the purse, it is yours, sah. He forfeited it when he brought out that other mare. Think what you are doing, sah!" "Cap'n Tom an' Shiloh, too"--winced the old man. "But I forgot--you don't kno'--yes"--and he smiled triumphantly. "Yes, Col'nel, I'll let him do all that if--if God'll let it be. But God won't let it be!" Colonel Troup arose disgusted--hot. "What do you mean, old man. Are you crazy, sah? Give me back my word--" "Wait--no--no," said the Bishop. "Col'nel, you're a man of yo' word--wait!" And he arose and was gone. The Colonel swore soundly. He walked around and damned everything in sight. He fumbled his pistol in his pocket, and wondered how he could break his word and yet keep it. There was no way, and he went off to take a drink. Bud, the tears running down his cheeks--was rubbing Ben Butler down, and saying: "Great hoss--great hoss!" Of all, he and the Bishop had not given up. "I'm afeard we'll have to give it up, Bishop," said Jack. "Me, me give it up, Jack? Me an' Ben Butler quit like yeller dogs? Why, we're jes' beginnin' to fight--with God's help." Then he thought a moment: "Fetch me some cotton." He took it and carefully packed it in the old horse's ears. "It was a small trick, that yellin' and frightening the ole hoss," said Jack.