The colt's proud spirit rebelled under the process known as breaking. He had stopped short, to start again only at his own royal will and pleasure. His master sat patiently for a few moments, occasionally saying "Come," in soft, coaxing tones. After speaking several times he got out and, still holding the reins, made a pretense of adjusting a buckle here and there, as though he would impress on the animal that the halt was most opportune. Having done this, he gently stroked and patted him, fondled his head, talked to him, and fed him cubes of white sugar. Then he returned to his buggy and again requested him to move on. This operation was repeated several times without effect. "Come!" said Denman, for the twentieth time. His voice, though calm and low, was growing stern. The soft, coaxing tone had disappeared. In its place was an ominous ring, becoming more and more distinct. Again and again the command was repeated, each time more sternly than before. There was no sign of obedience. Craigin wondered at the man's self-control. Most men with a balky horse, in the most public street of a city, would lose patience much sooner; yet this man again got out, again caressed and fed the animal, and tried to lead him.

"You had better step back," he said to the crowd, when kindness had failed; "you had better step back, or some one may get hurt. Stand back!" he repeated sharply; "I don't want any one hurt."

He kicked the robe under the seat and braced his feet. His fingers tightened round the lines like a vise. There was a dangerous light in his eyes. Drawing a tough, heavy whip, quick and sharp as a flash of light

ning he struck the stallion a stinging blow on the flank. A bloody wale followed the lash and left a stain on the velvety coat. The powerful animal reared and plunged; but the bit, designed for such occasions and used at the peril of breaking his jaw, brought him sharply down. Again and again, keen as a knife, the terrible lash descended upon his quivering flanks, crisscrossing them with bloody wales. The brute reared, backed, plunged from side to side; the man held him calmly and with consummate skill, all the while punishing him with relentless severity. At length, as the animal backed suddenly and still more violently, the wheel cramped and the buggy was upset. Denman lighted on his feet with the adroitness of a cat; but as he did so one of the wheels struck his leg between ankle and knee, laying bare the bone for several inches.

A groan went up from the crowd as they caught a glimpse of the mangled and bloody limb beneath the torn garment that covered it; but, beyond a single oath, Denman uttered no cry. He sprang to the stallion's head and seized the bit with an iron grip. The muscles in his long, lean hands stood out like cords of steel. The brute reared and plunged, fought with feet and jaws. His master hung to him like death. Several of the boldest of the spectators, Craigin among them, rushed forward, and the stubborn creature, held down by many hands, took the punishment that followed without sign of yielding.

"It's no good licking a balky horse," said Denman, at length. "Bring that straw," pointing to a crate of crockery that had just been opened; "we 'll see what fire 'll do."

The straw was piled under the stallion's belly, and lighted. Fire did not conquer him. He started back with a snort of rage, dragging the men after him, crushing the buggy like an egg-shell against a stone post, nearly catching a bystander in that grim trap. Thus brought to a standstill, he reared to his full height, tearing himself loose even from Denman's grip, and struck at his master's head with both fore feet. The multitude's cry of horror was too tardy a warning. In another instant Denman's career would have been ended, but as the iron hoofs descended a human body hurled itself against him like a thunderbolt, dashing him to the ground just out of harm's way.

He sprang up instantly and seized the bit. The fire had been scattered, and with the help of ready hands the horse was held.

"Mike," he said, "get the grays and a long chain." In a few moments the grays, harnessed to a beer cart, were driven up. One end of the chain was attached to the rear axle of the cart, and the other was secured around the colt's neck.

Denman turned and grasped the hand of a stranger. "I owe you my life," he said.

Then he addressed himself once more to Mike, the driver. "Start up a little-easy!" His forbearance was not yet wholly exhausted.

The chain was stretched taut. The colt lay back on his haunches and pulled with all his strength. "Come! get up!" cried Denman, lashing him with the whip.

The infuriated animal plunged forward, made a

vicious attempt to bite, and then, rearing, struck at his master for the second time with both fore feet. "Mike," exclaimed the latter, springing back, “start those horses d-d sharp!"

Mike obeyed. There was a desperate plunge, a violent struggle, a crackling sound, a groan, a heavy fall. The stallion was dead. His neck was broken. "Where's the man who saved my life?" inquired Denman, when the tragedy was over.

He had disappeared, and no one in the crowd knew who he was.

VI

THE PRESENTIMENT IS FALSE"

THE next morning, as Craigin approached the railway station, he saw the man whose

life he had saved, and the girl he had met at the great regatta.

"Here he is," cried Denman, springing from his carriage regardless of a bandaged leg, and hastening to meet him.

"I hope you were n't hurt," he said, observing large rents in the young man's clothes, carefully pinned together.

"Not to speak of, only a little cut on my hip," was the reply.

"You put your life in place of mine," continued Denman. "It was a great deal closer shave for you than for me. You 're not going on this train? I want you to come and see us; I want to know you, and I have n't even learned your name. Ah!" glancing at the card given him, "Isabel,-you 've met Isabel,-Isabel, he 's Tom's chum; he 's the Stand-by!"

Isabel's words of thanks were few and simple. Her tone and eyes thanked him most, and told him that