They had turned into the straight with Lucretia a neck to the bad, when Carter heard the girl's voice faintly calling, “Pull out, Ned!” The boy thought it fancy. Lauzanne the Despised couldn't be there at their heels. He had thought him beaten off long ago. But again the voice came, a little stronger, “Pull out, Ned!”
This time there was no mistake. It might be a miracle, but it was his duty to obey. As he galloped, Carter edged Lucretia to the right. Without looking back he could feel Lauzanne creeping up between him and Diablo. Soon the Chestnut's head showed past his elbow, and they were both lapped on the Black. Halfway up the stretch Allis was riding stirrup to stirrup with her father. Porter's weight was telling on Diablo.
“She's got him. Lauzanne'll hold him if he doesn't quit,” Carter muttered, as he dropped back, for Lucretia was blown.
Past the finish post Lauzanne was a head in front, and Diablo was galloping like a tired horse.
“He's beat!” ejaculated Carter. “Hello! that's it, eh? My word, what a girl!”
He saw Allis reach down for the slack rein running from her father's hand to Diablo's mouth. “Missed! She's got it!” he cried, eagerly. “The devil!”
As Allis grasped Diablo's rein, the horse, with sudden fury at being drawn toward Lauzanne, his old foe, snapped at the Chestnut. As he did so, thrown out of his stride, his forelegs crossed and he went down in a heap with the rider underneath. The force of his gallop carried the Black full over onto his back. He struggled to his feet, and stood, shaking like a leaf, with low-stretched neck and fearcocked ears, staring at the crushed, silent figure that lay with its face smothered in the soft earth. In a dozen jumps Allis stopped Lauzanne, threw herself from the saddle, and leaving the horse ran swiftly back to her father.
“Oh, my God! he's dead, he's dead!” she cried, piteously, the nerve that had stood the strain of the fierce ride utterly shattered and unstrung at sight of the senseless form.
“He's not dead,” said Carter, putting his hand over Porter's heart. “It's just a bad shake-up. Mike's coming, and we'll soon get him home. He'll be all right, Miss Allis—he'll be all right,” he kept muttering in a dazed manner, as he raised her father's head to his knee.
“Take Lucretia and gallop for the docthor, Miss 'Allis,” commanded Mike coming up on the run. “We'll get yer father home in the buggy.”