ALTHOUGH Halsey and Palo'mine had won twenty-five thousand dollars in the Great Sweepstake race, yet Eaton Manor had not been wholly redeemed, but the way for its ultimate redemption had been made.
Colonel Eaton had told Halsey that he owed forty-five thousand dollars and if he had twenty-five thousand of his own to apply on the debts he could probably raise the balance. This was why Halsey had striven so desperately for the great prize.
So although they were not wholly out of the woods yet, Halsey felt very jubilant as he led Palo'mine off the track.
When they had gone upon the track no one had hailed them. They had been practically unknown, but now a score of jockeys and horse fanciers crowded about them. They were the admired of all admirers.
Hundreds of horsemen were anxious to get a closer view of the wonderful chestnut who had passed under the wire just half a nose ahead of old Red Bird.
Halsey himself had been hoping for weeks that he would win the race. Something that was wiser than he had told him that he would. But what a desperate struggle it would be he had not even dreamed. He also had expected that something else might turn up which would give him the opportunity to free his uncle's estate. Uncle Hillery had done so much for him that he wanted to repay the debt.
But although he had prayed for deliverance from the menace that threatened them, yet he was not prepared for the form that deliverance should take. Nor was he prepared for the great sacrifice that he was to be called upon to make, before Eaton Manor should be wholly free.
As the crowd that had thronged about them finally gave way for them to go to the stable, a fine old gentleman came up and addressed McBride.
"Hello, Jock McBride. I want to congratulate you and I want to congratulate your driver. It was the most superb race I have ever seen and I have seen them all for thirty years. I also want to know the owner of this horse. He has won my heart."
"This is my friend Halsey Eaton, Colonel Eaton's nephew. Colonel Eaton of Eaton Manor, you know him."
"Surely, We all know the Colonel. There is not a finer gentleman in Kentucky. So you are Colonel Eaton's nephew—I am glad to meet you—and this is one of Colonel Eaton's famous Sultan colts. I might have known. Who owns him?"
"He is mine," spoke up Halsey quickly, a great pride swelling in his heart. "He has been mine ever since he was a month old. He is my comrade," and Halsey put his arm over Palo'mine's neck affectionately and smoothed his nose.
"Well, well," said the old gentleman, looking at Palo'mine narrowly. "You wouldn't sell him, would you, young man? I would give you a lot of money for him."
At the word Halsey drew back as though the benevolent old gentleman had struck him a blow in the face. Then he thought he must have heard wrong, so he stammered:
"Sell him, did you say? Sell Palo'mine?"
"Why yes," laughed Major Huxley, who owned one of the best stables in Lexington, "Why yes, sell him. Men have done such things before. But I can well understand that the idea shocks you. Of course you love him if he has been your pal ever since he was a month old."
"Yes he has," cried Halsey. "That is his real name, Palo'mine. We called him King Crescent just for the race."
"Humm, yes, I see," said the old gentleman reflectively. "So he is your pal. Well, I hate to make the suggestion, but he has taken my fancy. I want him bad. What would you say to twenty thousand dollars for him? Twenty thousand in cold cash?"
Halsey groaned. This was just the sum that uncle Hillery needed to Eaton Manor. To make it wholly free, and his uncle's own, just as Halsey had always supposed it was.
Uncle Hillery who had done so much for him was in trouble. He remembered with a strange tugging at his heart-strings how anxious and worn he had looked at Easter. He had aged ten years since he had seen him the Christmas before. Could he not make this sacrifice for his dear uncle?
Palo'mine moved over close to Halsey and put his nose against the young man's cheek. He was kissing him. It was a trick he had taught him.
"For God's sake, Palo'mine, don't," choked the boy. "I can't sell you when you are kissing me." He pushed the beautiful horse's nose away. But the soft nose went prospecting in the boy's pocket. It seemed to Halsey that he would pull his very heart from under his coat. So he pushed him gently away.
"Whoa, stand still," said Halsey, holding Palo'mine at arm's length.
"McBride," said the boy hoarsely, "Can I do it? He is my chum. But you know about Eaton Manor. I suppose I ought to make the sacrifice."
"It is a good offer," said McBride. "I would take it myself."
Then Halsey summoned all his fighting spirit, the spirit that had won the great race, and made the greatest effort of his young life. For he placed the bridle rein in the Major's hand and said quietly "He is yours, Major. Be good to him. He is my comrade. My need is very great. I would not sell him for any consideration which was to benefit myself. But it is my uncle. He has been very good to me. He is the only father I ever knew. He is in great need of money. So I sell my pal."
"Good," cried the Major. "Spoken like a man. You have acted wisely, young man. I appreciate your struggle. I will be good to him. He will have the best of everything, including a horseman's love." So with a mist of tears in his eyes, Halsey stood dazedly on the track and saw Palo'mine led away. He had passed out of his life. He was the property of another.
"Never mind, boy," said McBride kindly. "There are other horses in the world."
"That may be," said Halsey thickly, "but there are no other Palo'mines. You see the Major at the bank and fix it all up for me. I can't. I might back out. You have him deposit the money in the bank in my uncle's name. He said we were to meet him in an hour."
"All right," said McBride, "but don't take it so hard."
"I can't help it," returned Halsey, "I have got to get out of this and fight it out with myself. I am going to take to the woods, Jock. You attend to it for me."
"All right. I will attend to everything. But you had better go to your room and rest," answered McBride.
"I am going to the woods to rest. It is the best place I know of," said the boy wearily. "I am tired out. The race was a terrific strain. I will be all right in a little while. Good bye for the rest of the day. I will come around to the stable to-morrow."
So McBride went to the bank to attend to the rest of the transaction, while Halsey took his grief to the woods.
The friendly green woods, which has so often opened its soothing arms to the bruised and broken-hearted sons of men. The woods which wraps its green mantle about one and bids the tired spirit rest. The woods where Mother Nature applies that gentle balm which she alone knows how to administer. Many a tired or broken heart has found surcease from pain and sorrow in the woods, so it was to this natural sanctuary from trouble that poor Halsey fled with his boyish grief.
Although the streets were thronged with the great crowd returning from the race track, and although he was crowded and jostled on every side, yet the young man saw them not. He seemed to himself to be in a strange, bad dream. He could not shake off the impression that the race and the sale of Palo'mine had all been a nightmare, and that he would presently awake and find himself in the college dormitory.
Two or three miles from the city on one of the principal boulevards was a beautiful estate. Close to the road behind the great house was a wonderful oak grove, interspersed with small pines. The green moss carpet under the great trees was generously sprinkled with ferns. Halsey had often gazed into the cool depths when riding by with Palo'mine. He did not know to whom it belonged, or if he would be welcome in the grove. But it was the nearest woods that he knew of so he now bent his steps hither.
Arrived at the grove he plunged into its friendly shade. He did not stop until he was fifty rods from the road. Here he found a cool spot in a little grotto and flung himself wearily upon the moss carpet. For a long time he lay there thinking, and finally he buried his face in the green moss and gave way to his pent-up emotions.
He was nearly man grown, and a good fighter who did not give up easily, yet parting with Palo'mine had been the last straw. The strain of the race had been terrific. So much had been at stake. He had done his best. He had sacrificed the best thing he had in the whole world, so now he had to go back to Mother Nature to rest.
He did not know how long he lay there thinking and struggling with himself. He must be a man and not a child. He must put on a brave front. No one at home must know what it had cost him. So he determined to fight it to the finish and get the best of himself.
He was so engaged in his great struggle for mastery that he did not hear a light footfall on the soft moss carpet, or know any one was about until a friendly, kindly woman's voice spoke almost in his ear.
"Why my boy, what is the matter? Are you injured? Are you hurt much?"
Halsey raised up quickly, shame and disgust at being caught in this weakness overpowering him. He did not have time to wipe away the traces of his grief, so he was caught fairly, just as though he had been a small boy. He was at first almost too ashamed to speak.
A kind-looking, motherly woman of perhaps fifty was bending over him. She was simply gowned in a white dress. She wore no hat. Upon her arm was a market basket and in her hand was a trowel. The basket was partly filled with wild flowers and ferns.
"Oh, no ma'am, I am not hurt, that is, not much. I mean I am not injured. I am just disappointed. I had to fight out something. Something that troubled me. So I came here to this beautiful woods. Am I trespassing? Is it your woods, ma'am?"
"Yes, it is my woods, but you are not trespassing. I am glad if it looks good to you. I often come here to rest myself." She laid her hands gently upon Halsey's shoulder.
"I had a boy once," she said tenderly, "he would have been about your age if he had lived. I lost him when he was ten."
"I am sorry you lost your boy," replied Halsey. "My mother would have been about as old as you are if she had lived."
"That makes us friends," said the woman, sitting down upon a knoll beside the young man, "I have lost my son and you have lost your mother. Now tell me what it is that troubles you. It often helps to tell such things. Perhaps it is something that can be mended."
"Oh no, it can't," replied Halsey. "It is something that I ought not to mind. I am a great booby to mind. But you see I brought him up. He was given to me when he was only a colt, a month old."
"I thought it was something to do with a horse when I first saw your jockey suit. Tell me all about it," said the kind lady.
The woman looked so sympathetic and Halsey was so lonely just then that he did as she bade him and told her the long story of his boyhood and Palo'mine. He told it well, with all the enthusiasm of youth and with his grief welling up in his voice. When he had finished the kind woman gave his hand a warm motherly squeeze.
"You are a fine boy. I loved you the first moment I set eyes upon you and I like you better now. You have done a fine thing. You will get your reward. Here is something that you can always remember. A good deed like yours blesses those whom you strive to help but it also blesses you yourself a hundred fold. It will return to you magnified many times. That is the law of good. Don't forget that, my boy."
They talked for half an hour longer. Halsey told her of Eaton Manor and his uncle and aunt and Peggy. Finally when they at last parted he was much comforted.
Although Halsey went back to college with a determination to conquer his great sense of loss at being parted from Palo'mine yet the separation from his beloved saddle horse was too much for him. He could think of nothing else but that another hand was upon Palo'mine's bridle rein, and another man was in the saddle where he ought to be.
The new owner could not be expected to know all of Palo'mine's dainty ways, his whims, his likes, and his dislikes. Who would feed him carrots, or apples now, or give him his lump of sugar? Who would smooth out his foretop and mane, and stroke his ears in the gentle way he loved?
If he was lonesome for Palo'mine, he knew the horse must be lonesome for him.
Each afternoon after studies Halsey would go for a long walk. He might have hired another saddle horse, but he did not feel he ever wanted to mount a horse again.
Then too, he had betrayed Palo'mine just after he had given his last ounce of strength and his last shred of devotion for his master. The sweat and the lather of the great race were still on his flanks. He had done all he could to save Eaton Manor. Then his master had sold him to a stranger, just like the Arab in the famous old poem. But he had not done it for himself. It had been for Uncle Hillery and those he loved. If it had been for himself he and Palo'mine would have starved together before he would have sold him.
He wondered if the new master was kind to Palo'mine. Of course he was, only Palo'mine would miss his petting. He had made a chum of him and no one else would do that.
Halsey's life seemed so much out of joint and his interest in college so waned, that he was delighted beyond measure when he received a telegram from Uncle Hillery inviting him home for the week end.
"I have just heard of your great sacrifice," the telegram read, "You are a brave boy. I want to take you by the hand and thank you. Come home at once."
So Halsey hired another saddle horse and started for Eaton Manor. He had usually made the trip in two days with Palo'mine but the new horse took three days. When he at last galloped up to Eaton Manor it was with a great sense of homesickness. The old place had never looked so good. Well, he and Palo'mine had saved it. He had that to be glad of all the rest of his life. Uncle Hillery met him at the gate and aunt Julia and cousin Margaret were not far behind him.
"Welcome home, Halsey," cried Uncle Hillery. "You are a famous jockey and the bravest boy in Kentucky. I want to get my arms around you."
His uncle gave him a great bear hug before them all, and Aunt Julia kissed him primly, and Peggy shyly.
"Oh Halsey, why didn't you tell us about the race, so we could have seen it? It must have been thrilling. The papers are full of it. Your picture and Palo'mine's have gone all over the United States."
"It wouldn't have been so funny if I had been beaten," replied Halsey. "Jock McBride said we had not a ghost of a chance, so I kept pretty quiet."
"Well," said Uncle Hillery smiling in his old genial way, "you have gotten us out of the woods. Eaton Manor is safe. And we owe it all to you. To you and that horse.
"I always knew Kentucky Babe would foal a winner. She was a great mare. I say, Halsey," he continued, turning to his nephew, "what would you say to a new horse all your own?"
"No, uncle," said Halsey, trying desperately not to show how hard he was hit, "no, I don't want any more horses at present. I may some time. But no other horse could take Palo'mine's place just now. He,—he,—I,—please don't say anything more about it now."
"Well, I won't," returned the Colonel. "But I just wish you would go out into the stable and see what is in Palo'mine's old stall."
Halsey was a good sport. It would spoil all of their joy over the recovery of Eaton Manor if they knew he felt so badly. So to please them and to get away and hide his emotions, he went out to the stable, to the place where he had so often gone on a run to greet Palo'mine.
As he opened the stable door he was greeted with a glad nicker. It was so much like Palo'mine's whinny that it made him start.
He was torn with conflicting emotions. He was half angry that another horse had so soon been put into Palo'mine's stall, but he was also curious about the new horse. So he went leisurely to the great roomy box stall, the best in the stable where Palo'mine had always been kept.
As he neared the stall the whinnying grew continuous and the horse began rattling his halter chain. An old trick of Palo'mine's. Tears filled the boy's eyes. He was so blinded that he almost ran into the intruder. But when he brushed away his tears he was standing by Palo'mine himself.
No, it was not he. The new horse was just like him. They were as like as two peas.
Yes, it was Palo'mine himself. There was no mistaking his great joy at seeing his master again.
"Oh Palo'mine, oh Palo'mine," cried the overjoyed boy rushing in beside his chum and putting his arms about his neck and laying his face against horse's cheek. "Am I not to lose you after ail? Are you mine again?"
Palo'mine seemed to think lie was and he rubbed his nose against his master's arm and nuzzled in his pocket for sugar.
Halsey could not wait another minute to know what it meant. He returned to the house running as though he had been a small boy instead of a tall young man.
"Uncle Hillery," he cried, almost before the door was open, "what does this mean? I sold Palo'mine. You have twenty thousand dollars in the Lexington bank which I received for him."
"It means," said Uncle Hillery, "that your brave deed touched the warm heart of a great horse lover. A man who could not let you make such a great sacrifice for a few thousand dollars. It means that your own good to others has returned upon your own head."
"Why, that is what the woman told me in the woods that it would do," said Halsey in wonderment.
"Exactly," said his uncle. "I am glad you mentioned this woman. I was just coming to her myself. She is one of the finest gentle ladies in Kentucky. Do you know who she is?"
"No," said Halsey, "I didn't ask her name and she didn't tell me."
"Well," said his uncle, "she is Mrs. Major Huxley, the wife of the man to whom you sold Palo'mine. She went straight home and told him your story not an hour after you had told it to her.
"The Major was so touched that he at once got in communication with me and the result was that he returned Palo'mine and loaned me the twenty thousand which I needed. So Palo'mine is yours and Eaton Manor is saved as well."
Halsey was so overcome at the turn in events that he could not speak. He just stood and looked at them dumbly. Finally he turned and went back to the stable. A minute later they heard the sound of madly galloping hoofs. All hurried to the window.
They were just in time to see the world's greatest running horse and Kentucky's best rider sweep by like the wind.
"He is just going to see that it is really true," chuckled Uncle Hillery. "My, but I am glad it came out in this way. I would almost rather have lost Eaton Manor than to have had him lose that horse. They are going to make a still greater name for themselves. I know it."
And he prophesied better than he knew. But in just what way they would distinguish themselves Colonel Eaton little dreamed.