t
career he had! One never hears of him nowadays. I wonder what became of
him?"

"Billy Garrison?" echoed Garrison slowly, "Why--I--I think I've heard of
him--"

He was cut short by a laugh from the girl. "Oh, you're good! Why, his
name used to be a household word. You should have heard it. But, then, I
don't suppose you ever went to the track. Those who do don't forget."

Mrs. Calvert walked slowly away. "Of course you'll stay for lunch, Sue,"
she called back. "And a canter might get up an appetite. William, I
meant to tell you before this that the major has reserved a horse for
your use. He is mild and thoroughly broken. Crimmins will show him to
you in the stable. You must learn to ride. You'll find riding-clothes
in your room, I think. I recommend an excellent teacher in Sue. Good-by,
and don't get thrown."

"Are you willing?" asked the girl curiously.

Garrison's heart was pounding strangely. His mouth was dry. "Yes, yes,"
he said eagerly.

The tight-faced cockney, Crimmins, was in the stable when Garrison,
in riding-breeches, puttee leggings, etc., entered. Four names were
whirling over and over in his brain ever since they had been first
mentioned. Four names--Sis, Waterbury, Garrison, and Crimmins. He
did not know whey they should keep recurring with such maddening
persistency. And yet how familiar they all seemed!

Crimmins eyed him askance as he entered.

"Goin' for a canter, sir? Ho, yuss; this 'ere is the 'orse the master
said as 'ow you were to ride, sir. It don't matter which side yeh
get on. 'E's as stiddy-goin' as a alarum clock. Ho, yuss. I calls 'im
Waterbury Watch--partly because I 'appen to 'ave a brother wot's trainer
for Mr. Waterbury, the turfman, sir."

Crimmins shifted his cud with great satisfaction at this uninterrupted
flow of loquacity and brilliant humor. Garrison was looking the animal
over instinctively, his hands running from hock to withers and back
again.

"How old is he?" he asked absently.

"Three years, sir. Ho, yuss. Thoroughbred. Cast-off from the Duryea
stable. By Sysonby out of Hamburg Belle. Won the Brighton Beach
overnight sweepstakes in nineteen an' four. Ho, yuss. Just a little off
his oats, but a bloomin' good 'orse."

Garrison turned, speaking mechanically. "I wonder do you think I'm a
fool! Sysonby himself won the Brighton sweepstakes in nineteen-four.
It was the beginning of his racing career, and an easy win. This animal
here is a plug; an out-and-out p