, how it came about. But
I didn't go to do it. I didn't, girlie. You understand, don't you? I'll
square that deal some day, Sis. I'll come back and square it. Don't
forget me. I won't forget you--I can't. You don't think me a crook, Sis?
Say you don't. Say it," he pleaded fiercely, raising her head.

The filly understood. She lipped his face, whinnying lovingly. In a
moment Garrison's nerve had been swept away, and, arms flung about the
dark, arched neck, he was sobbing his heart out on the glossy coat;
sobbing like a little child.

How long he stayed there, the filly nuzzling him like a mother, he did
not know. It seemed as if he had reached sanctuary after an aeon of
chaos. He had found love, understanding in a beast of the field. Where
his fellow man had withheld, the filly had given her all and questioned
not. For Sis, by Rex out of Reine, two-year filly, blooded stock, was
a thoroughbred. And a thoroughbred, be he man, beast, or bird, does not
welch on his hand. A stranger only in prosperity; a chum in adversity.
He does not question; he gives.

"Well," said Crimmins, as Garrison slowly emerged from the stall, "you
take the partin' pretty next your skin. What's your answer to the game I
spoke of? Mulled it over? It don't take much thinking, I guess." He was
paring his mourning fringed nails with great indifference.

"No, it doesn't take much thinking, Dan," agreed Garrison slowly, his
eyes narrowed. "I'll rot first before I touch it."

"Yes?" The trainer raised his thick eyebrows and lowered his thin voice.
"Kind of tony, ain't yeh? Beggars can't be choosers."

"They needn't be crooks, Dan. I know you meant it all right enough,"
said Garrison bitterly. "You think I'm crooked, and that I'd take
anything--anything; dirt of any kind, so long's there's money under it."

"Aw, sneeze!" said Crimmins savagely. Then he checked himself. "It
ain't my game. I only knew the man. There's nothing in it for me. Suit
yourself;" and he shrugged his shoulders. "It ain't Crimmins' way to
hump his services on any man. Take it or leave it."

"You wanted me to go crooked, Dan," said Garrison steadily. "Was it
friendship--"

"Huh! Wanted you to go crooked?" flashed the trainer with a sneer. "What
are y' talking about? Ain't yeh a welcher now? Ain't yeh crooked--hair,
teeth, an' skin?"

"You mean that, Dan?" Garrison's face was white. "You've trained me,
and yet you, too, believe I was in on those lost races? You know I lost
e