"I don't see that it matters now," replied John, coolly, busy at his desk. "Why?" "We don't want to ruin him just for the fun of it, do we? It was to help the Dudleys we planned his downfall. That necessity is removed now. Of course he should be punished for holding that dividend back, but that alone hardly merits the penitentiary, especially since our little plan about the insurance worked. They're easy now, but we must see that no more tricks like that are played at the bank. Marston's behaving very well now. At least he has quit annoying our friends." "You're a devilish funny fellow!" commented Dillard. "And I want him to be on hand at the races," continued John. "He has entered the pick of his stables. Two of them--the best he has--go against The Prince. The colt will win. I want Marston to see him win. I want him to see a Dudley horse walk away from the fastest thing in a Marston stable!" He swung around in his chair with flashing eyes. "You're pretty confident, aren't you?" "No more than I have cause to be." "Do you know the private record of that big black, Imperial Don?" "No, and I don't care to. I don't care if it's two minutes flat! I tell you, Tom Dillard, there's nothing on four legs that can outrun The Prince! It is uncanny! Have you ever seen him go with a loosened rein? It takes your breath away to watch him! Peter is going to work him out this afternoon at the track. Miss Dudley and I are going. When you come back you will understand what I mean when I say this colt was born of the wind and the lightning!" Dillard flushed at the mention of Julia's name and looked embarrassed. John wondered. Had the poor fellow cast his die, and lost? His own uncertain position brought a warm feeling of sympathy to his heart, but he could say nothing personal. "I don't suspect I can come," answered Dillard, in a changed voice, and John no longer doubted it was all over with his friend. "But I hope you're right. It would give me a lot of pleasure to see the Dudleys win over Marston." "There are plenty of people around here who will enjoy that pleasure," muttered Glenning, turning to his writing materials. "I'll be on hand at the race, anyway," said Dillard, walking to the door, "and I'll keep on watching Marston." John's engagement with Julia was at five in the afternoon. The days were extremely hot, and it had not been thought wise to allow the colt his exercise until the sun had declined somewhat. The Prince was green. He was young. Conditions which older and hardened horses might not feel would likely affect him seriously. He had been sheltered and pampered since earliest colthood. Really he had not been given a chance to prove what was in him. The run this afternoon was a part of the process of hardening. The race wherein his name made one was to be a mighty game for blood and brawn. It was no place for a weakling.