Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1915-11-07
SUNDAY MAGAZINE for November 7, 1915

end for the day, telling me of great wagers
laid upon CORVALLIS and Hotspur. He
suggests that | approach my, father, and
learn to which horse he will award the
tell him of my fathers decision he will
acquit me of the debt, and pay over to me
$1,000 to boot. large sum is $l4OO, and,
as Mr.. Kinney well says, the gentlemen
he holds, should we not profit thereby?
Later. am more deeply perplexed than
when this days journal was begun. l have
seen my father He tells me he has dis
covered that the tail of Hotspur is not genu
inc. In truth, the animal is rat-tail horse,
his trainer having skilfully devised a false
tail which slips over the denuded one and
is so fastened as completely to conceal the
trick. My father is in high dudgeon at the
fraud, and will award the prize to Corn
wallis. When it comes to me that Mr.
Bowie and his friends have endeavored to
impose this unworthy trick, it seems but
fair to profit by their perfidy.. Then too
shall be greatly embarrassed if forced to
as l do that he can ill afford to spare so
large a sum.
But my fathers last word was charge to
reveal to no one knowledge of his determi-
nation. l am in two minds over the matter.
Such is my perturbation that sleep is driven
from me.
Francis stared at the page. Across the
years his grandfather was telling of his
trial, his own moral struggle The words
gripped the boys filling heart. The fol-
lowing page would show how this tempta-
ton had been met. Francis did not fear
to turn the leaf.
Sept. l7th. The Fair has closed. At
breakfast L was in such a fever of uncer-
tainty that l could eat nothing. My father
showed marked concern at my ill appear
ance, and spoke with touching kindness to
me. This but added to my agitation. Then
with great suddenness it came to me that l
edge which so loving a father had placed in
my keeping. After the meal l went to his
office, where l laid the whole matter before
him. | shall ever remember his words. AS
never before he made me see the duty a
gentleman owes to himself and others. He
pointed out the falsity of eXcuSing ones own
dishonest acts on the plea that Others are
rogues.
Come to me always with your troubles,
he said at the end of his discourse.
l left his presence and went speedily to
the Fair inclosure, sought out MIR. Kinney,
and paid to him the money my father had so
generously given me. l then left the grounds
without further delay
Francis had to blink hard to make these
closing lines come clear. Swiftly he
turned to the last written page.
My Boy: If you have read of my tempta-
ton as lad of twenty, you read what I
know was turning-point in my life. Now,
in my eighty-first, year, feel beyond perad-
venture that had / yielded my whole life
would have been tainted with regret no
money could have aSsuaged. The conscious
ness that one has never proved false to a
trust is beyond all price. God bless you
always, my son.
With no uncertain hand Francis reached
for the report and closed the envelop. He
started to rise, paused, then struck
match. One by one he watched the drops
Of falling wax. Into the soft surface he
pressed his grandfather seal ring.
Francis rose and crossed to the window.
The first breezes of the coming day
stirred the air. AS he drew in the fresh
ness of the dawn, Francis held out his
arms to the new morning and whispered
"'Ill hear, you said. I'll hear you,
Sorrel-Top, when you CALL"