Then of a sudden came that greatest of all tonics. That irresistible sensation so powerfully stimulating that no trouble can resist it. The racing horses leaped into her view, and the disjointed shouts welded into one steady roar. Nan was caught in the tide of it all. The blood seemed to rush to her head like full rich wine. She added her light cries to the general tumult. "Sassafras! Sassafras!" she cried, with eyes blind to all but the indistinct cluster of the straining horses. Then in her ears rang a cry: "A hundred dollars Jack Rabbit! A thousand! Jack Rabbit! Jack Rabbit!" It was like a douche of cold water. The girl's heart sank. She felt, she knew that Jack Rabbit had won. Then into her ears poured a babel of voices. The roar had died out, and the crowd were waiting for the numbers to go up. Nan had no further interest. She turned to seek her father. He was there, not far behind her, and she pushed her way toward him. She smiled bravely as she came up, but the pathos of it was lost on Bud. He was craning, and his eyes were on the number board. He did not even see her. "I'm--I'm sort of tired, Daddy," she began. But Bud held up his hand. There was a rattle at the number board. Nan understood. She waited. Then it seemed as if the crowd had timed itself for one unanimous shout. "Sassafras!" It came with a sort of electric thrill for the girl. In one wild moment all her shadows seemed to clear. "Sassafras!" she cried. And her father's deep gray eyes beamed down upon her "You've sure guessed right, little gal," he said. "An' I--hope it was dollar time." At that instant Jeff thrust his way through the crowd, and the warmth of his smile flooded the girl's heart with happiness. "Say, Nan," he cried, holding out his hand with an enthusiasm that was hardly to be expected in one who has lost, "you got us all beat a mile. You surely have. Sassafras. My old Sassafras. Say, who'd 'a' thought it?" Nan's hand remained clasped in his, and she seemed to have no desire to withdraw it. Jeff looked round into Bud's face. "Do you know what she's won? Do you, Nan?" he went on to the girl again. Nan laughed. It was all she wanted to do. "Not a notion, Jeff. I handed you all Daddy gave me. How much was it, Daddy?" "Five hundred." Nan's eyes widened in alarm. "Five hundred? And I bet it all on--Sassafras!" "And you've won nearly five thousand," cried Jeff, stirred completely out of himself at the girl's success. "I--I must have been--crazy," she declared, in an awed voice. Bud laughed, but his eyes were full of a sympathy that had no meaning for the others. "Not crazy, little Nan. Jest good grit. Guess Jeff didn't see the pool waitin' around for him to pick up. Wal, guess ther's a heap o' folk like him. You played right out for a win, an' you won--by a head." CHAPTER XI ELVINE VAN BLOOREN