followed her that afternoon, the mare stepped
through the blazing door and out into the stable-yard.

CHAPTER XV

Lexington was in a wild state of excitement on the morning of the year's
great race, the Ashland Oaks. In a private parlor of the Phoenix Hotel
the two men who were, perhaps, most deeply interested of all in it, were
weary of their speculations after they had gone, for the thousandth
time, over every detail of possible prophecy and speculation. The
Colonel sat beside a table upon which stood a "long" glass from which
protruded, and in which nestled fragrant mint-leaves. At the bottom of
the glass there lingered, yet, the good third of a julep.

"There's one capital thing about a mint-julep," he said comfortably, and
smacked appreciative lips. "One always suggests another." He drained his
glass and rose. At the other side of the room was the bell-button. His
finger was extended and about to touch it when he stopped to think. "No!
Great heavens!" said he. "That makes my third, already, and I'm as dry
as the desert of Sahara." He sat down again, an air of martyrdom upon
his face. "Ah, well, Miss 'Lethe's worth it. I say, Frank, anything new
in the extra?"

The youthful owner of Queen Bess, to whom it seemed as if almost life
itself were staked on the result of the coming contest at the track,
lowered, with a nervous hand, for an instant only, the newspaper he had
been poring over.

"Only this," he said, and slowly read: "'Queen Bess is still the
favorite for the Ashland Oaks. The report that she was injured in the
fire by which her stable was burned, proves to be a canard. Her owner
declares her to be unhurt and in fine condition.'"

The Colonel nodded his approval. "That's what I've telegraphed the Dyer
brothers. I'm sure they won't refuse to take her when they know the
facts in the case. It was a close shave, though. If it hadn't been for
that little thoroughbred from the mountains--"

"When she rushed into the flames, last night, wasn't she magnificent!"
said Frank, flushing with enthusiasm. "And when she came out, leading
Queen Bess to safety, she looked like an angel!"

The Colonel coughed in deprecation. "The simile's off, a little bit,
ain't it? Angels are not supposed to come out of the flames."

"At least, Colonel, you'll admit that she's the best and bravest little
girl you ever knew."

The Colonel smiled. "Yes; but, my boy, this enthusiasm is alarming." He
laughed outright. "It se