"Selim," cried Calhoun, "how do you like that? It is the cause of the Sunny South that is at stake. Win, Selim, or I will sell you to the meanest Abolitionist in the North."
Both boys vaulted into their saddles, and at the word their steeds were away like the wind.
CHAPTER II. THE MEETING WITH NELSON.
Never was there a hotter race run in Kentucky. Neck and neck the horses ran, neither seemingly able to gain an inch on the other. The goal grew alarmingly near. Each rider bent over the neck of his flying steed, and urged him on with word and spur. The tree was scarcely twenty yards away. "Now, Prince, if ever," cried Fred. The horse seemed to understand. With a tremendous effort, he plunged forward, and passed the goal half a length ahead.
He plunged forward, and passed the Goal half-a-length ahead.
"Won!" cried Fred, but his huzzah died on his lips. The excitement of the race had made the boys careless, and they ran into a squad of horsemen who were passing along the other road. Fred came nearly unhorsing the leader of the squad, a heavy-set, red-faced man with bushy hair that stood up all around his large head. He was dressed in the uniform of an officer of the United States navy. As for Calhoun, he entirely unhorsed a black groom, who was bringing up the rear of the squad.