Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 10, 2025
Allis wondered why he should find it necessary to make any explanation at all. "I want to thank you, Miss Porter, for that reading about Crusader." Allis's eyes opened wide. "Yes, I was there," Crane added, answering the question that was in them. As he said this a man came hurriedly up the steps, spoke to a policeman on guard, and searched the faces with his eyes.
It was so paradoxical that Allis's love for Mortimer seemed hopeless because of the latter's defeat, while his, Crane's love, was equally hopeless in his hour of victory. Farrell's voice drew him from this psychological muddle in tones that sounded harsh as the cawing of homing ravens at eventime. "Will it be a court case?" he queried. "What?" asked Crane, from his tangled elysium.
Each minute seemed an age, with the honor of Allis's brother hanging in the balance. He would need money. He drew a check for a hundred dollars. A hasty inspection showed that he still had a trifle more than this amount to his credit. Why he took a hundred he hardly knew; fate seemed writing the check. He had barely finished when the cashier appeared. At once Mortimer spoke to him.
Again Crane had cause to congratulate himself upon the somewhat clever manipulation of a difficult situation. He had scored again in his diplomatic love endeavor. He knew quite well that Allis's determined stand was only made possible by her expectation of gaining financial relief for her father through Lucretia's winning the Derby.
Langdon had thought these thoughts as he passed swiftly from the paddock to the stand inclosure, where he stood not far from the rail, trying to get a good look at the lad on Lauzanne. Allis's persistently averted face thwarted this. The boy was inscribed on the jockey board "Al Mayne;" the permit to ride must be under that name. If it were really Alan Porter, why had he been called Mayne?
But the Indian was a horse of uncertain temperament, and presently, with a foolish side rush, he cannoned fair into Lauzanne. In the melee Redpath looked full into Allis's eyes at short range. His face went white in an instant. "You!" he cried, pulling hard at his horse's mouth; "it's you, Miss " He stopped suddenly. "God!
"That's Mortimer coming," Crane said, suddenly, as a step with more consistency in its endeavor than pertained to the hostler's, sounded, coming up the stairs. "I sent for him," he added, seeing the look of happy confusion in Allis's face. "Come in," he called cheerily, in answer to a knock on the door.
Allis's quick eye caught his expression of amused discontent; it angered her. Mike's praise had been practically honest. To him a good jockey was the embodiment of courage and honesty and intelligence; but she knew that to Mortimer it simply meant a phase of life he considered quite outside the pale of recognized respectability.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking