John passed through the low door. He found himself in a tall, dark room, odourous of cured meats and burned hickory fagots. It was scantily lighted by a square window of diminutive size, for in making the opening Peter had been careful not to get it large enough to admit the body of a man. But Glenning thought it was just the right size to admit two arms, one holding a bull's eye lantern and the other a revolver. By the aid of the light which streamed through the open door he could discern dimly the rows of blackened rafters overhead, from which broken bits of hempen strings hung desolately. There was not an ounce of meat in the smoke-house, and the man could not help wondering the least bit at this. Could they really be poor! He remembered what Dillard had said to him--"They are in no position to entertain a well guest, let alone a sick one." His heart sank strangely at the thought, and pity filled his breast. He turned swiftly, and went out the door. "Peter's trouble is not as grave as it might be," he said, smiling at Julia as she stood patiently listening to the darky's discourse. "There are two remedies; to cut up, or dig down. The floor, I notice, is perhaps six inches lower than the ground, or we could saw out the log above the lintel. Either is entirely practicable, and not difficult. Which would you prefer, Miss Dudley?" Julia did not know, as the perplexed look on her face showed, but Peter did. He broke in before she had time to formulate a reply. "We'll dig dat do'step up. I've heerd de Massa say afo'time dat de rain'd run under dat do', 'n' dat he gwi' hab it 'tended to 'kase it spile de meat. 'Bleeged to yo', suh. I'll git de pick 'n' shev'l 'n' fix dat d'reckly." He departed with his peculiar gait. "Come and look at The Prince, and see if he knows you," said Julia. "Peter hasn't let him get out of sight today." Together they approached the young animal which stood tethered under the shade of a small peach tree to one side. "It's wonderful how little he was hurt," resumed Julia, and she could not restrain the emotion in her voice. "See, this is the worst." She pointed to a spot just above the lean flank, where a long, deep burn marred the satin-like skin. "A piece of falling timber did that," said Glenning. "I saw it." He walked slowly around The Prince, and he, who had known horses from his childhood, marveled much at the absolute faultlessness of this young colt. He was modeled for speed, and speed alone, from the tips of his veined ears to his small, polished hoofs. There was not a line at fault, and, unbidden, a great wave of enthusiasm swept the man. "You will race him this summer?" he queried. "Yes, if he lives till then," she answered, with some sadness. "Don't fear but he will live. I pledge you my word he shall be on the track when the day comes." Julia looked at him with moist eyes.