He heard a great laugh from the Behemoth's friends. He rose slowly, his
fighting blood up. Then he became aware that his ejector was not one of
the crowd, but a newcomer; a tall man with a fierce white mustache and
imperial; dressed in a frock coat and wide, black slouch hat. He was
talking.

"How dare you insult my daughter, suh?" he thundered. "By thunder,
suh, I've a good mind to make you smart right proper for your lack of
manners, suh! How dare you, suh? You--you contemptible little--little
snail, suh! Snail, suh!" And quite satisfied at thus selecting the
most fitting word, glaring fiercely and twisting his white mustache and
imperial with a very martial air, he seated himself majestically by his
daughter.

Garrison recognized him. He was Colonel Desha, of Kentucky, whose horse,
Rogue, had won the Carter Handicap through Garrison's poor riding of the
favorite, Sis. His daughter was expostulating with him, trying to insert
the true version of the affair between her father's peppery exclamations
of "Occupying my seat!" "I saw him raise his hat to you!" "How dare he?"
"Complain to the management against these outrageous flirts!" "Abominable
manners!" etc., etc.

Meanwhile Garrison had silently walked into the smoker. He tried to
dismiss the incident from his mind, but it stuck; stuck as did the
girl's eyes.

At the next station a newsboy entered the car. Garrison idly bought a
paper. It was full of the Carter Handicap, giving both Crimmins' and
Waterbury's version of the affair. Public opinion, it seemed, was with