church people," she continued, almost apologetically,
"tolerating no sin in the household. Living in sin there can be no hope
for eternal life."

"I know, mother," soothed the girl; "I know just how you feel, but we
can't desert father. He does not look upon it as a sin, as carrying any
dishonor; he may be cheated, but he cheats no man. It can't be so sinful
if there is no evil intent. And listen, mother; no matter what anybody
may say, even the minister, we must both stick to father if he chooses
to race horses all his life."

"Ah, sweetheart!" John Porter cried out in a pleased voice, as he came
out to them, "looking after mother; that's right. Cynthia has helped
me fix up Mortimer. He'll be all right as soon as Mike gets back with
Rathbone. I think we'd better have a cup of tea; these horses are trying
on the nerves, aren't they, little woman?" and he nestled his wife's
head against his side. "How did it happen, Allis? Did Mortimer slip into
Diablo's box, or--"

"It was all over that rascally boy, Shandy. Diablo was just paying him
back for his ill-treatment, and I went in to rescue him, and Mortimer
risked his life to save mine."

"He was plucky; eh, girl?"

"He fought the Black like a hero, father. But, father, you must never
think bad of Lauzanne again; if he hadn't come Mr. Mortimer would have
been too late."

"It's dreadful, dreadful," moaned the mother.

Allis shot a quick look at her father. He changed the subject, and
commenced talking about Alan--wondering where he was, and other
irrelevant matters.

Then there was fresh divertisement as Mike rattled up, and Doctor
Rathbone, who was of a great size, bustled in to where Mortimer lay.

Three smashed ribs and a broken arm was his inventory of the damage
inflicted by Diablo's kick, when he came out again with Porter, in an
hour.

"I'm afraid one of the splintered ribs is tickling his lung," he added,
"but the fellow has got such a good nerve that I hardly discovered this
unpleasant fact. He'll be all right, however; he's young, and healthy as
a peach. Good nursing is the idea, and he'll get that here, of course.
He doesn't want much medicine; that we keep for our enemies,--ha! ha!"
and he laughed cheerily, as if it were all a joke on the battered man.

"Thim docthers is cold-blooded divils," was Mike's comment. "Ye'd a
thought they'd been throwin' dice, an' it was a horse on the other
gintleman. Bot' t'umbs! it was, too. Still, if ould Saw-bones h