e Jeff had left her. Everybody
had rushed to the fence of the enclosure, crowding to witness the race.
Nan seemed to have forgotten it. It was Bud's voice that finally
claimed her, and she tried to pull her scattered faculties together.

She reached Bud's side amongst the crowd, and the old man's shrewd eyes
searched her troubled face.

"What's amiss, Nan?" he demanded, in a tone almost brusque.

And the girl responded with a wistful smile.

"Why, Daddy, I've bet all your money on Jeff's Sassafras, and--and I
want him to win more than anything--anything in the world."

Bud's reply was lost in the sudden shout that went up. It was the
start. Some one made way for Nan, and gently pushed her to a place
against the railings. The winning-post was directly in front of her.
The full breadth of the track was in her view. She gazed out with eyes
that were very near tears. She saw a vista of green and many figures
moving beyond the track. She heard the hoarse cries of men, whose
desires exceeded their veracity as they shouted the progress of the
race. But nothing of what she heard or beheld conveyed anything to
her. Her heart was aching once more, and her thoughts were heavily
oppressed, and all the joy of the day had suddenly been banished.

Then of a sudden came that greatest of all tonics. That irresistible
sensation so powerfully stimulating that no trouble can resist it. The
racing horses leaped into her view, and the disjointed shouts welded
into one steady roar. Nan was caught in the tide of it all. The blood
seemed to rush to her head like full rich wine. She added her light
cries to the general tumult.

"Sassafras! Sassafras!" she cried, with eyes blind to all but the
indistinct cluster of the straining horses.

Then in her ears rang a cry:

"A hundred dollars Jack Rabbit! A thousand! Jack Rabbit! Jack
Rabbit!"

It was like a douche of cold water. The girl's heart sank. She felt,
she knew that Jack Rabbit had won. Then into her ears poured a babel
of voices. The roar had died out, and the crowd were waiting for the
numbers to go up.

Nan had no further interest. She turned to seek her father. He was
there, not far behind her, and she pushed her way toward him. She
smiled bravely as she came up, but the pathos of it was lost on Bud.
He was craning, and his eyes were on the number board. He did not even
see her.

"I'm--I'm sort of tired, Daddy," she began.

But Bud held up his ha