At a quarter of a mile from the home stake the sorrel horse was passed, but still the result seemed uncertain. Then young LeMonde appeared as a Jehu incarnate. He pressed the horse's flanks with his heels and shouted into the very ears of his mount: "Velox, we must win, we will win, we are going to win." With this remark, for the first time in his life he brought the whip down hard upon the glossy hide of his steed. The animal increased his speed, and went thundering down the home stretch after the black. It is a case of blood against time and space. The bay gains! He has closed the distance between them! His head is on a line with the other's shoulder! They are only one hundred yards from the goal! The grand stand is wild with shouting! Those standing near the track, unconscious of what they do, are throwing hats, handkerchiefs and umbrellas into the air, and yelling like mad men! The judges are sighting the line! They see a horse's brown head and shoulders pass the line, then a black head appears, and Velox has won by a neck's length. CHAPTER VIII. Prayer In a Dance Hall. When the three horses crossed the finishing line, covered with sweat and foam, LeMonde and Ketcham soon brought their mounts to a stop. Not so the monster dwarf. Fearing that the crowd might do him personal injury he rode the black horse directly to the stable. He was almost beside himself with rage and disappointment. He ground his teeth together, and froth showed upon his lips. His face was hideous in expression. He shook his fist in the direction of the race course, and cursed the victorious horse and rider with terrible oaths. To Sam Wiles, who had come up, he said: "Anudder chance will come. I'll git even wid dat proud aristocrat yit. I'm goin' to git back all de money I lost today, and mo' too." A different scene was taking place near the grand stand. When George LeMonde, with flushed face and bright eyes, dismounted from his horse, he was at once surrounded by an admiring crowd who showered him with congratulations. They praised his skill as a horseman, his coolness in a time of danger and emergency, and his good nature under great provocation. Many were the admirers of Velox. They patted his shoulders, stroked his head and commented on his beauty of color and form. The horse took it in good part, and seemed to consider it a proper tribute to the steed who won the race.