d looked in eagerly.
The horse recognized them, and whinnied feebly. Peter, with curry-comb
and brush, was going over the splendid animal vigorously, though not a
speck showed on his shining coat.

"Better, suh! Better, young missus!"

The old negro spoke encouragingly between the grunts caused by his
exertion.

"He am beginnin' to tek notice. He et mos' he feed, 'n' he 'peared right
glad to see me. I wush I c'd lay dese brack han's on de low-down skunk
whut tech 'im! I'd break his naik!"

The Prince was standing a little stiffly, and his slender, patrician
head hung lower than it should, but his breathing was not labored, and
his eyes were bright and beaming with intelligence.

"He'll come, Peter; he'll come!" said the Major, warmly. "He had a close
call, but your prompt action saved him. You're a good boy, Peter, and I
commend you!"

Peter grinned his appreciation, and rubbed the satin limbs with renewed
vigour.

"Yassuh, he'll come all right, 'n' w'en de race hit come, he'll beat
eb'ry one ob 'em! De hoss ain't folded whut kin tech 'im!"

"I believe you, boy. Only once in a lifetime is a hoss born like The
Prince."

Julia slipped into the stall as her father was speaking and going up to
the noble brute, put both arms around his neck and cuddled her check
upon his shoulder.

"Poor old fellow!" she murmured. "Have they used you badly because you
belonged to us? Never mind. They shan't do it again. Miss Julia loves
you, and all of us love you, and we are going to take care of you."

The horse turned and muzzled the sleeve of her dress understandingly.

The girl withdrew her arms and stroked his nose gently. As she rejoined
her father there were tears in her eyes.

"Put a new padlock on his door tonight, Peter," cautioned the Major, as
he turned to go, "and see that there are no loose planks which a
sneakin' assassin might prize off."

"I'll fix 'im so tight dat a gnat can't git in!" was the emphatic reply.
"Dey shan't git nigh 'im ag'in!"

Julia was quiet as she and her father returned to the big house. Though
her tongue was idle, her mind was busy. She was trying to elucidate this
mystery of the attack on The Prince. Her father had said in as many
words that he believed Devil Marston was at the bottom of it, but why
should Devil Marston be so bitter against them? Half forgotten incidents
came back to her--things which had been glozed over or dismissed with a
laugh. Marston had been at their home sev