"Six heats an' the last one the fastest--By gad, sah," said Col. Troup. "It is strange. That mare Lizzette is a wonder, an' by gad, sah, didn't the old pacer come? By gad, but if he'd begun that drive jus' fifty yards sooner--our money"-- Flecker groaned: "We're gone, Colonel--one thousand we put up and the one we hedged with." "By gad, sah, but, Flecker, don't you think Lizzette went smoother that last heat? She had a different stride, a different gait." Flecker had not noticed it. "But it was a small thing," he said--"to frighten the old horse. No rule against it, but a gentleman--" The Colonel smiled: "Damn such gentlemen, sah. They're a new breed to me." The old man went slowly back to the stable. He said nothing. He walked dazed, pale, trembling, heart-broken. But never before had he thought so keenly. Should he expose Travis?--Ruin him, ruin him--here? Then there passed quickly thoughts of Cap'n Tom--of Miss Alice. What a chance to straighten every thing out, right every wrong--to act for Justice, Justice long betrayed--for God. For God? And had not, perhaps, God given him this opportunity for this very purpose? Was not God,--God, the ever merciful but ever just, behind it all? Was it not He who caused him to look at the open mouth of the first mare? Was it not He giving him a chance to right a wrong so long, so long delayed? If he failed to speak out would he not be doing every man in the race a wrong, and Cap'n Tom and Shiloh, and even Miss Alice, so soon to marry this man--how it went through him!--even God--even God a wrong! He trembled; he could not walk. He sat down; Jack and Bud had the horse, the outlaw's eyes flashing fire as he led him away. But Bud, poor Bud, he was following, broken-hearted, blubbering and still saying between his sobs: "Great--hoss--he skeered him!" The grand-stand sat stupefied, charged to the explosive point with suppressed excitement. Six terrible heats and no horse had won three. But now Lizzette and Ben Butler had two each--who would win the next, the decisive heat. God help the old preacher, for he had no chance. Not after the speed that mare showed. Colonel Troup came up: "By gad, sah, Bishop--don't give up--you've got one mo' chance. Be as game as the ole hoss." "We are game, sir--but--but, will you do as I tell you an' swear to me on yo' honor as a gentleman never to speak till I say the word? Will you swear to keep sacred what I show you, until I let you tell?" The Colonel turned red: "What do you mean, sah?" "Swear it, swear it, on yo' honor as a gentleman--" "On my honor as a gentleman, sah? I swear it." "Go," said the old man quickly, "an' look in the mouth of the mare they are jes' bringin' in--the mare that won that heat. Go, an' remember yo' honor pledged. Go an' don't excite suspicion."