and, turning quickly, he saw tears in a pair of gray eyes that were set
in a smiling face.

"Like a babe on his neck I was sobbing," came back to Crane out of the
poem Allis had recited.

"I congratulate you, Miss Porter," he said, raising his hat. Then he
turned, and held out his hand to her father, saying: "I'm glad you've
won, Porter--I thought you would. The Dutchman quit when he was
pinched."

"It wasn't the colt's fault--he was short," said Porter. "I shouldn't
like to have horses in that man's stable--he's too good a trainer for
me."

There was a marked emphasis on Porter's words; he was trying to give
Crane a friendly hint.

"You mean it's a case of strawberries?" questioned Crane.

"Well I know it takes a lot of candles to find a lost quarter," remarked
Porter, somewhat ambiguously. Then he added, "I must go down to thank
Dixon; I guess this is his annual day for smiling."

"I'm coming, too, father," said Allis; "I want to thank Lucretia, and
give her a kiss, brave little sweetheart."

After Allis and her father had left Crane, he sat for a minute or two
waiting for the crowd of people that blocked the passageway after each
race to filter down on the lawn. The way seemed clearer presently, and