The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1896-09-25

racing for good"
Eyes, so he told met hope he will
win," Clara said, in q low voice; but
Carstairs heard the words as he came
up into the box from the paddock; his
he had to stop moment to steady his
voice.
Have you seen the scratches, Phi? ?''
mo; what's the matter, old man?"
He sat down and pasesd his handker-
chief across his brow.
princess Bonnie Is scratched"
"Princess Bonnie-why?
II don't know; I can't find out; the
stable is astounded. She had such a
sure thing; old Stephens has turned
crusty and won't explain; and they are
giving prohibitive odds on Sir Ronald.
Aren't you going to have something on
him? The tide is surely turning in my
favor nowt"
After all, the race for the Crystal
stakes was a good deal like most other
races, but to two people up in the grand
stand 1t seemed as If those horses would
never appear around the curve of the
home-stretch. But at last, In cloud of
dust, they came sweeping along, the
blue and canary of the favorite about
third in the bunch, and the peacemaker,
a rank outsider, leading by nearly a
length. The crowd pressed up to the
railing, and a dull, continuous murmur
arose as they urged on the horses they
had backed; there were passionate ap-
peals for the favorite and his jockey to
win; but Sir Ronald responded gamely
to the call of his rider and shot beyond
his companions, locked with the pace
maker neck to neck, and passed her
the favorite had won.
Billy Carstairs Lit his cigar after din
ner and went out alone into the garden
to think 1t oil over; his nerves were
somewhat shaken by the excitement of
the day, and he wanted to dream awhile
and build castles in the air.
1t was late and the dew was falling
when he was aroused from these pleas
ing meditations by the fact that his
cigar had gone out and the sound Of a
woman's voice close at hand; there was
another, too, after a moment-a mans;
1t was curious voice, quick, low
spoken, uncultivated, but withal, kind
ly. Carstairs did not mean to listen;
he was sorry they had disturbed his
peaceful solitude, but his cigar had
gone out and the night was growing
chilly. He thought they would walk
away directly and he could go In doors,
but the next words kept him rooted to
the spot.
Begging your pardon, miss" the
mans voice was arguing, "but I've my
reputation; another such decision on
your part would do me great harm; we
gave away the race; the filly was never
more fit than she was to-day. Every
one knew it, and there was no boasting
about her. Why, I've trained for you
going on four years, Miss Clara, and
your poor father 20 years before, but 1
never had setback like this-begglng
your pardon, but I can't undertake your
horses any longer; this is the last
straw; I am getting old, and my pa
tience isn't what it was. I've some
pride, you know, and it goes hard with
me to see the hours and the weeks I
have spent-all for nothing-and me
the laughing stock of the stable"
Carstairs could see, through the trel-
lis, the wrathful face Of the speaker.
'Now, now, John, don't be cross with
me! I have very good reasons for with
drawing Princess Bonnie, and If pay
you and give you an interest besides
why should you care what the reasons
are? did not covet the stakes; if my
stable pays, 1t is all I ask. can't let
you go, John. Why, where would find
SO faithful an old friend? 1 couldn't
trust anyone else to train my horses" !"
The garden chair was pushed back
across the gravel with sudden grating
noise, and Clara Chalmers walked
around the little arbor and looked in.
to see Carstairs sitting there still with
his cigar firmly held in his fingers;
there was silence for an instant; 1t was
almost imperceptible; then she said
gently: "You can go, John," and stood
there waiting until the old mans foot
steps had died away; then she turned
back and confronted Carstairs.
"You have heard ?" she asked, simply.
II couldn't help it. 1t is truth, then ?''
He went up quite close to her and laid
both hands very lightly upon her shoul-
ders.
you are the owner of the OalSdale
stable, of Princess Bonnie-of-"
She walked away, laughing nervous
ly-half defantly.
81 am a southern woman, Mr.. Car
stairs. I think, perhaps, we have a
little more sentiment for home ties
than you have up north; we like to cling
to old associations. was born and
bred at Oal1dale; 1t was my fathers
breeding establishment in Virginia, and
1 grew up with his colts. 1 ran wild
about his farm and knew nearly as
much about horsefesh and loved it just
as dearly as he did. He died two months
after I had lost my husband, and IL
could not stay there any longer. I
could not bear it, so sold the old house,
but could not part with the horses" F."
She threw back her head as she finished
her explanation and met his eyes; but
the crimson In her cheeks betrayed how
bitterly she regretted the discovery.
"What, then, is it so appalling?" she
said.
"It-isn't-that," faltered Carstairs,
"but that you should sacrifice-that you
should withdraw-give me a moment
to see things In their right light"
It could not have taken so very long,
for when Phil Witherington came out
into the garden about IS minutes later