to The Prince's side.

"How did it happen?" he asked.

Peter kicked his feet free of the stirrups, and slid to the ground. He
was trembling all over, and his face had assumed a grayish hue.

"I'll tell yo' suh, 'n' you tell Marse Dudley 'n' de young Missus jes'
whut I tell yo', foh dat am de fac'! Dis ol' nigguh ain' lib dese long
yeahs foh nuffin. Now I gwi' tell yo' how 'twuz, 'n' yo' wanter pay
'tention. Dat fus' time dis Don-hoss wahn't nowhahs, 'n' t'other'n o'
Deb'l Marston's come a measly secon'. Dis time de Don-hoss he win by a
gnat's heel. Yo' know why? Jis' 'kase dey hil' 'im up de fus' time,
a-savin' 'im foh de secon'. Now I wants yo' to look at dis heah hoss!"
He placed a trembling hand upon The Prince's arching neck. "Am he
blowed? Am he tahed? Am he standin' on t'ree feet? Am he haid down
'tween he laigs? Now look at de res', 'n' please yo'. Yondah's dat
Don-hoss, whut t'inks he's done so much, scearcely able to git he breff;
ready to drap! Yondah's dat Daystah, whut didn't do nuffin 'tall, 'n'
he's dat wet wid sweat 'n' weak dat he c'n hahdly stan' on fo' feet, let
'lone t'ree. Now, suh, yo' pay 'tention to me. Dem hosses hab done dey
do. Dey's tahed to deff, bofe ob 'em. Dey's took tuhn 'bout runnin' dis
heah thuhuhbred, 'n' one of 'em manage to creep 'head o' 'im, but dey's
done. Dey'll try de same t'ing, time 'bout, dis nex' race, but 'twon't
do. Dis hoss am jus' de same as if he'd nebber run a step. We's gwi'
win, 'n' yo' c'n jis' res' on de wud o' dis ol' nigguh!"

Uncle Peter's explanation of the condition of affairs was, in truth,
feasible, and it was equally true that Marston's horses were feeling
keenly the terrible strain they had just undergone. Of their pluck,
mettle and speed there could be no doubt, but they did not have the
bottom of the bay colt, whose sires were famed for their endurance. John
took the old man by the hand.

"Peter Dudley, don't let a Marston win over you today! I hope and
believe you are right in all you've told me. I shall tell it over to
Miss Dudley for her encouragement. You know what's in this piece of
horse-flesh--_then get it out_. And listen, Uncle Peter! I've known
horses intimately all my life. Let me suggest something to you. Trail
the leading horse for the first half mile, then go to the front and stay
there!"

A moment later Glenning was back with Julia, telling her and the Major
of Peter's explanation of the last heat. Julia was hopeful, but her
father