io6 JUSTIN MORGAN 



She held her head high. 



He shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows. 



**As you will, Mistress ! In one week more you and 

 your father will be beggars, and living on the charity of 

 your friends — unless ?" He flicked his riding boot with 

 his whip and looked at her with defiance. 



There was a short silence during which the lady grew 

 very haughty, and then began to move away. 



"Come," the Coxcomb spoke again, in a different tone, 

 following after her. "You love a good race — you're a 

 Southerner — what say you to a race — yourself and your 

 home the stake? If 3^ou win I will cancel all these 

 notes I hold against your father and accept your refusal 

 to marry me as final. If I win, ah " 



Mistress Lloyd silenced him with a movement; she 

 was no longer the slip of a girl True knew at Hartford. 

 Here was a mature character of spirit and dignity, yet 

 not lacking in the sweetness of perfect womanhood. 



"I understand — you need not put the rest in words. I 

 will ride your race, on this very horse — and you?" 



"I have Silvertail with me," he answered, and in an 

 undertone added, "You will not have the ghost of a 

 chance !" 



If Mistress Lloyd did not hear this, Morgan did, and 

 switched his tail with satisfaction, moving his ears to 

 and fro, to miss nothing. 



Silvertail ! If horses could laugh aloud, Morgan 

 would have laughed. He recalled a race six years be- 

 fore against Silvertail and it seemed almost a miracle 

 that he should meet him again — of all the other horses 

 in America — in so important an event. 



"I am not afraid of Silvertail," came Mistress Lloyd's 

 brave reply. 



The Coxcomb looked at Morgan scornfully, not re- 



