The wooden structure upon which they stood shook, so fierce and long was the applause, and hands were thrust at Major Dudley and Julia so fast that they could not take them all, while a confused chorus of congratulations was poured upon them. But this was only the beginning. There might be many more heats. John went on the track to have a closer look at The Prince. The colt was breathing deeply and regularly; not a hair was turned from sweat and he showed no signs of distress. Some of the others were full of lather and were blowing heavily. The pace had been fast. Presently all withdrew to rest, and be rubbed down. Uncle Peter was exalted to the seventh heaven of delight as he rode away, prouder than Solomon in his palmiest days. The next heat, however, was a shock, a surprise and a revelation. Imperial Don, Devil Marston's other entry, pushed his nose under the wire about six inches ahead of the colt's. People were dumfounded, for the horse had run fourth in the first heat, and not one had supposed him to be a possible winner. Julia retained her self-possession, and spoke with a firm voice. "Please go and ask Uncle Peter the reason." John obediently made his way to The Prince's side. "How did it happen?" he asked. Peter kicked his feet free of the stirrups, and slid to the ground. He was trembling all over, and his face had assumed a grayish hue. "I'll tell yo' suh, 'n' you tell Marse Dudley 'n' de young Missus jes' whut I tell yo', foh dat am de fac'! Dis ol' nigguh ain' lib dese long yeahs foh nuffin. Now I gwi' tell yo' how 'twuz, 'n' yo' wanter pay 'tention. Dat fus' time dis Don-hoss wahn't nowhahs, 'n' t'other'n o' Deb'l Marston's come a measly secon'. Dis time de Don-hoss he win by a gnat's heel. Yo' know why? Jis' 'kase dey hil' 'im up de fus' time, a-savin' 'im foh de secon'. Now I wants yo' to look at dis heah hoss!" He placed a trembling hand upon The Prince's arching neck. "Am he blowed? Am he tahed? Am he standin' on t'ree feet? Am he haid down 'tween he laigs? Now look at de res', 'n' please yo'. Yondah's dat Don-hoss, whut t'inks he's done so much, scearcely able to git he breff; ready to drap! Yondah's dat Daystah, whut didn't do nuffin 'tall, 'n' he's dat wet wid sweat 'n' weak dat he c'n hahdly stan' on fo' feet, let 'lone t'ree. Now, suh, yo' pay 'tention to me. Dem hosses hab done dey do. Dey's tahed to deff, bofe ob 'em. Dey's took tuhn 'bout runnin' dis heah thuhuhbred, 'n' one of 'em manage to creep 'head o' 'im, but dey's done. Dey'll try de same t'ing, time 'bout, dis nex' race, but 'twon't do. Dis hoss am jus' de same as if he'd nebber run a step. We's gwi' win, 'n' yo' c'n jis' res' on de wud o' dis ol' nigguh!"