to their ears. Porter nodded his head understandingly, and frowned.
The stephanotis was choking his nostrils, and an occasional word was
filling his heart with confirmation of his suspicions.

"I don't like it," he muttered to Allis. "They've had four breaks, and
the mare's been left each time. The Chestnut's the worst actor I ever
saw at the post. But I'm thinking he'll leave the race right there, the
way he's cutting up."

"My God!" he exclaimed in the next breath. He had startled the girl
with the fierce emphasis he threw into the words; she sprang to her feet
in excitement.

A bell had clanged noisily, there was the shuffle of thousands of eager
feet; a hoarse cry, "They're off!" went rolling from tier to tier, from
seat to seat, to the topmost row of the huge stand.

"Lauzanne is off with a flying lead of three lengths, and the mare is
left absolutely-absolutely last. The boy whipped her about just as the
flag fell." There was the dreary monotone of crushed hope in Porter's
voice as he spoke.

"Yes, we're out of it, Little Woman," he continued; and there was almost
a tone of relief, of resignation. Suspense was gone; realization of the
disaster seemed to have steadied his nerves again. Allis attempted to
speak, but her low voice was hushed to a whisper by the exultant cries
that were all about them.

"Didn't I tell you--Lauzanne wins in a walk!" the falsetto voice was an
exultant squeak of hilarious excitement.