at Ringwood for a few days.

It was as if Philip Crane, playing with all his intense subtlety,
had met his master in Fate; the grim arbiter of man's ways had pushed
forward a chessman to occupy a certain square on the board for a time.

Mortimer had been most decisively smashed up, but his immense physique
had wonderful recuperative powers. The bone-setting and the attendant
fever were discounted by his vitality, and his progress toward recovery,
was marvelous.

XII

Crane heard of the accident on one of his visits to Brookfield a couple
of days later, and of course must hurry to Ringwood to see his employee.
It happened that the Reverend Mr. Dolman graced the Porter home with his
presence the same evening that Crane was there.

Naturally the paramount subject of interest was the narrow escape of
Miss Allis; but the individuality of discussion gradually merged into a
crusade against racing, led by the zealous clergyman. John Porter viewed
this trend with no little trepidation of feeling.

It was Mrs. Porter who precipitated matters by piously attributing
Allis's escape to Providence.

"Undoubtedly, undoubtedly!" Mr. Dolman said, putting the points of his
fingers together in front of his lean chest. He paused a moment,
and Porter groaned inwardly; he knew that attitude. The fingers were
rapiers, stilettos; presently their owner would thrust, with cutting
phrase, proving that they were all indeed a very bad lot. Perhaps
John Porter would have resented this angrily had he not felt that the
Reverend Inquisitor was really honest in his beliefs, albeit intolerably
narrow in his conclusions.

Dolman broke the temporary silence. "But we shouldn't tempt
Providence by worshiping false images. Love of animals is
commendable--commendable"--he emphasized this slight concession--"but
race horses always appeal to me as instruments of the Evil One."

"It wasn't the horse's fault at all, Mr. Dolman," Allis interposed, "but
just a depraved human's. It was the boy Shandy's fault."

"I wasn't thinking of one horse," continued the minister, airily; "I
meant race horses in general."

"I think Mr. Dolman is right," ventured Mrs. Porter, hesitatingly; "it's
flying in the face of Providence for a girl to go amongst those race
horses."

"Bad-tempered men make them vicious, mother," Allis said; "and I believe
that Shandy's punishment was the visitation of Providence, if there was
any."

The Reverend Dolman's face took on