you 'fess up? What is the use of concealing it? You've nothing to
be ashamed of. You should be proud of your record. I'm proud of it.
Proud--that--that--well, that I rode a race with you to-day. You're
hiding your identity; afraid of what your uncle and aunt might
say--afraid of that Carter Handicap affair. As if we didn't know you
always rode as straight as a string." Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes
flashing.

Garrison eyed her steadily. His face was white, his breath coming hot
and hard. Something was beating--beating in his brain as if striving to
jam through. Finally he shook his head.

"No, you're wrong. It's a case of mistaken identity. I am not Garrison."

Her gray eyes bored into his. "You really mean that--Billy?"

"I do."

"On your word of honor? By everything you hold most sacred? Take your
time in answering."

"It wouldn't matter if I waited till the resurrection. I can't change
myself. I'm not Garrison. Faith of a gentleman, I'm not. Honestly, Sue."
He laughed a little nervously.

Again her gray eyes searched his. She sighed. "Of course I take your
word."

She fumbled in her bosom and brought forth a piece of paper, carefully
smoothing out its crumpled surface. Without a word she handed it to