"Kelwin, ye blanked coward, say ye lied! Ye know ye lied!"
At last the Irishman gave the sign. Jack Harding released him. Then, somewhat sobered, he muttered:
"I did lie about a true woman. All I said was a lie."
He staggered from the scene, and Jack Harding passed on his way.
The race was to be on a track in the valley below. As it was Saturday, John Clayton had suggested to Esther that she and Edith take a horseback ride with him, to see the last part of the race; for, he assured her, she would see human life, as well as horse speed, there.
As they approached the track from the mountain road, hoarse cries and yells could be heard. Excitement ran high.
A few thoroughbreds had been entered for the race, but the greater number of entries were for horse-flesh that could boast neither registered sires nor grandsires. They were just "horses."
The last race began just as the Clayton party turned and looked down on the wriggling, shoving, cursing crowd below. It is doubtful if Esther Bright had ever heard such language, in all her life, as she heard that day. She shuddered, and turning to her escort, asked why he had brought her there.
"Just for you to see what animals human beings are, and how great is their need of refining, uplifting influences."
"Is John Harding here?" she asked, uneasily.