The old man wanted to shout, and yet he was actually shedding tears, talking hysterically and trembling all over. He heard in a dazed way the yells and thunder from the grand-stand. But he was faint and dizzy, and worst of all, as he laughed to himself and said: "Kinder sissy an' soft in spots." Jack and Bud had Ben Butler and were gone. No wonder the grand-stand pulsed with human emotion. Never before had anything been done like this. The old, blind pacer,--the quaint old preacher--the thing they were going to shut out,--the pathos, the splendor of it all,--shook them as humanity will ever be shaken when the rejected stone comes up in the beauty of purest marble. Here it was: _4th Heat:_ _Ben Butler, 1st_; _Lizzette, 2nd._ _Time_, 2:19-1/2. What a record it was for the old pacer! Starting barely able to save his distance, he had grown in speed and strength and now had the mare at his mercy--the two more heats he had yet to win would be a walk around for him. Oh, it was glorious--glorious! "Oh, by gad, sah," shouted Col. Troup, pompously. "I guess I've hedged all right. Travis will pay my thousand. He'll know how to shet out gentlemen the nex' time. Oh, by gad, sah!" Flecker and the Tennesseans took drinks and shouted themselves hoarse. Then the old preacher did something, but why he never could explain. It seemed intuition when he thought of it afterwards. Calling Col. Troup to him he said: "I'm kinder silly an' groggy, Col'nel, but I wish you'd go an' look in her mouth an' see how old Lizzette is." The Colonel looked at him, puzzled. "Why?" "Oh, I dunno, Col'nel--but when a thing comes on me that away, maybe it's because I'm so nervous an' upsot, but somehow I seem to have a second sight when I git in this fix. I wanted you to tell me." "What's it got to do with the race, sah! There is no bar to age. Have you any susp--" "Oh, no--no--Col'nel, it's jes' a warnin', an intuition. I've had 'em often, it's always from God. I b'leeve it's Him tellin' me to watch, watch an' pray. I had it when Ben Butler come, thar, come in answer to prayer--" Colonel Troup smiled and walked off. In a short while he sauntered carelessly back: "Fo' sah, she was fo' years old this last spring." "Thank ye, Col'nel!" The Colonel smiled and whispered: "Oh, how cooked she is! Dead on her feet, dead. Don't drive yo' ole pacer hard--jes' walk around him, sah. Do as you please, you've earned the privilege. It's yo' walk over an' yo' money." The fifth heat was almost a repetition of the fourth, the old pacer beating the tired mare cruelly, pacing her to a standstill. It was all over with Lizzette, anyone could see that. The judges hung out: _5th Heat:_ _Ben Butler, 1st_; _Lizzette, 2nd._ _Time_, 2:24. Travis's face was set, set in pain and disappointment when he went to the stable. He looked away off, he saw no one. He smoked. He walked over to the stall where they were cooling Lizzette out. "Take the full twenty minutes to cool her, Jim."