AMERICAN TROTTING HORSE. 537 



stallion. The pocket was complete, and thought to be secure. . A 

 smile of triumph lighted Doble's face, and the crowd settled sullenly 

 down to the belief that the race was over. Marvin was denounced 

 as a fool for placing himself at a disadvantage, and imagination 

 pictured just beyond the wire the crown of Goldsmith Maid with 

 new laurel woven into it. But look ! By the ghosts of the de- 

 parted ! Marvin has determined upon a bold experiment. He 

 falls back, and to the right, with the ir fcention of getting out 

 around the pocket. Too late, too late ! is the hoarse whisper. 

 Why, man, you have but one hundred and fifty yards in which to 

 straighten your horse and head the Maid, whose burst of speed has 

 been held in reserve for just such an occasion as this ! Her gait 

 is 2 m. 14 s., and you — well, you are simply mad ! The uncounted 

 thousands held their breath. The stallion does not leave his feet, 

 although pulled to a forty-five angle to the right, and the moment 

 that his head is clear and the path open, he dashes forward with 

 the speed of the staghouud. It is more like flying than trotting, 

 Doble hurries his mare into a break, but he cannot stop the dark 

 shadow which flits by him. Smuggler goes over the score a winner 

 of the heat by a neck, and the roar which comes from the grand 

 stand and the quarter-stretch is simply deafening. As Marvin 

 comes back with Smuggler to weigh, the ovation is even greater 

 than that which he received in the preceding heat. Nothing like 

 the burst of speed he had shown had ever before been seen on the 

 track, and it may be that it will never be seen again. Marvin had 

 two reasons for going into the pocket. In the first place, he 

 thought that Green would pull out when the pinch came and let 

 him through, and in the second place, he erroneously supposed that 

 Doble would push the Maid down the stretch and leave him room 

 to get out that way. It was bad judgment to get into the pocket, 

 since, had the Maid won the heat, the race would have been over; 

 but it must be admitted that jMarvin acted not without a show of 

 reason. In riding at the gait he was riding, a man does not have 

 any extra time to mature his plans. The heat was literally won 

 from the fire. It was only the weight of a hair which turned the 

 scales from defeat to victory. Doble was more deeply moved by 

 the unexpected result of the heat than by anything else which hap- 

 pened in the race. His smile of triumph was turned in one brief 

 instant to an expression of despair. The time of the heat was 

 2 m. 19 1 s. Smuggler again cooled out well, nibbling eagerly at 

 his bunch of hay, while the crowd massed around him. The Maid 

 was more tired than ever, while Lucille Golddust showed no signs 

 of distress. When the horses responded to the bell for the fifth 

 heat it was evident that a combination had been formed against 

 Smuggler. All worked against him. Lucille Golddust and Bodine 



