Here was his chance to go ahead and tell her all, for there was no possibility of interruption. But he did not speak. Why, he could not say. They walked on in silence. Soon they were going down a rain-washed hill-side where it was necessary he should assist her. He offered her his hand without speaking, and she took it dumbly. So they reached the level again, and went towards the fair ground, now only a short distance off. They halted in front of the grandstand. Several horses were on the track, but their eyes were quickly drawn to the lithe, graceful figure of The Prince. He had just come from the track stables, and was walking down the home stretch with a withered, monkey-like figure perched upon his back. Uncle Peter saw the twain, and guided the colt up to the low fence enclosing the track. "Well, Uncle Peter, are we too late?" asked Glenning. The old fellow removed his tattered hat, and bowed. "No, suh. I had jes' rid 'im out de stall. I gwi' limber 'im up treckly." "How is he running?" queried Julia, anxiously. "Lak a skeered dawg, young missus!" "What horses are those over yonder?" "Couple o' plugs dat Deb'l Marston sont out hyar!" he replied, contemptuously. "I'll go by dem lak dey's hitched to a pos'!" "Are you sleeping with this horse every night, as I suggested you should?" asked John. "Yes, suh! Him 'n' me, we bunks tuhgedder, 'n' he has de bes' bed, too!" "He will bear close watching, and as the time draws nearer for the race you must be doubly careful." "Dat I will, suh--doctuh. Yo' may 'pen' on me. Now 'bout dis heah hoss I'm a-settin' straddle uv." He fairly choked with pride and emotion as he moved his bony hand up the richly maned neck caressingly. "Dis hoss am de none-sich hoss, whut means dar ain't anudder'n lak 'im nowhahs. He runs lak a pig'n fly, goin' home. 'N' he's had de bes' o' kyar! Fo't-night, come tuhmorrer, I's been out hyar, rain ur shine, 'n' I rub dis hoss twel he shine lak a new stove. I feed 'im de right numbah yeahs o' cawn; de right size bunch o' hay. Den I gits on 'im 'n' rides 'im roun' dis track twel he drips lather lak soap-suds. A man frum town stood right dar whah you is dis minute de udder day, 'n' he tol' me dat he couldn't see 'im w'en he passed--he wuz dat fas'. Den I rub 'im dry 'n' put on de blanket, 'n' mek he bed, 'n' lock de do' 'n' we bofe go 'sleep. 'N' dat w'at I gwi' do twel de day come w'en he win de race! 'N' he gwi' _win_, simply 'kase he can't lose!" He stopped for breath, and the knotty hand which rested on the colt's neck trembled. His recital had moved him, for it was truly a matter of life and death to him. John took out his watch. "If you will pardon the suggestion, Miss Julia, I will say that we had better let Uncle Peter have The Prince go. It will be dark soon." "Certainly. Ride him around the track, Uncle Peter. Let us see what there is in him!"