The Forfeit Part 18

He'll peck. Then he'll change his stride. No, Jeff. Sa.s.safras goes with me."

The smile in the man's eyes faded out. He hated the thought of Nan losing her money on what he considered a foolish bet. His practical mind could not see under her purpose.

"Say, Nan, just don't you do it," he said persuasively. "We aren't.

We're backing Jack Rabbit for a big roll."

"We?"

"Mrs. Van Blooren and me."

Jeff's manner was quite unconcerned. At that instant he had no thought of anything but to dissuade Nan from throwing her money away uselessly.

And Nan. Her eyes never wavered for an instant in their regard. Their warmth of expression remained. Yet it was a cruel blow. Perhaps the cruelest that could have been inflicted at such a moment. Jeff had inflicted it--Jeff of all men.

She smiled up at him. Oh, how she smiled. Her eyes shone like two superb brown diamonds as she forced her money upon him with even greater determination.

"Take it, Jeff. Take it," she cried urgently. "Say, if you never, never do another thing for me--ever. Take it, and, why, I guess every cent of it says Sa.s.safras wins. Sa.s.safras is your pony, Jeff, and I'd back him if he'd only three legs and a fence post." Then just the smallest gleam of the woman peeped through. "Maybe Mrs. Van Blooren's a pretty bright woman. But I guess I'm wise to horses."

Jeff hurried away. There was no time to waste. The horses had already a.s.sembled at the start. Nan watched him go with eyes that had lost their last gleam of suns.h.i.+ne. The mask she had set up before the man had completely fallen. Jeff was--was betting for Mrs. Van Blooren! He was betting with her! Maybe even they were pooling their bets! Oh!

For some moments she stood alone where Jeff had left her. Everybody had rushed to the fence of the enclosure, crowding to witness the race.

Nan seemed to have forgotten it. It was Bud's voice that finally claimed her, and she tried to pull her scattered faculties together.

She reached Bud's side amongst the crowd, and the old man's shrewd eyes searched her troubled face.

"What's amiss, Nan?" he demanded, in a tone almost brusque.

And the girl responded with a wistful smile.

"Why, Daddy, I've bet all your money on Jeff's Sa.s.safras, and--and I want him to win more than anything--anything in the world."

Bud's reply was lost in the sudden shout that went up. It was the start. Some one made way for Nan, and gently pushed her to a place against the railings. The winning-post was directly in front of her.

The full breadth of the track was in her view. She gazed out with eyes that were very near tears. She saw a vista of green and many figures moving beyond the track. She heard the hoa.r.s.e cries of men, whose desires exceeded their veracity as they shouted the progress of the race. But nothing of what she heard or beheld conveyed anything to her. Her heart was aching once more, and her thoughts were heavily oppressed, and all the joy of the day had suddenly been banished.

Then of a sudden came that greatest of all tonics. That irresistible sensation so powerfully stimulating that no trouble can resist it. The racing horses leaped into her view, and the disjointed shouts welded into one steady roar. Nan was caught in the tide of it all. The blood seemed to rush to her head like full rich wine. She added her light cries to the general tumult.

"Sa.s.safras! Sa.s.safras!" she cried, with eyes blind to all but the indistinct cl.u.s.ter of the straining horses.

Then in her ears rang a cry:

"A hundred dollars Jack Rabbit! A thousand! Jack Rabbit! Jack Rabbit!"

It was like a douche of cold water. The girl's heart sank. She felt, she knew that Jack Rabbit had won. Then into her ears poured a babel of voices. The roar had died out, and the crowd were waiting for the numbers to go up.

Nan had no further interest. She turned to seek her father. He was there, not far behind her, and she pushed her way toward him. She smiled bravely as she came up, but the pathos of it was lost on Bud.

He was craning, and his eyes were on the number board. He did not even see her.

"I'm--I'm sort of tired, Daddy," she began.

But Bud held up his hand. There was a rattle at the number board. Nan understood. She waited. Then it seemed as if the crowd had timed itself for one unanimous shout.

"Sa.s.safras!"

It came with a sort of electric thrill for the girl. In one wild moment all her shadows seemed to clear.

"Sa.s.safras!" she cried.

And her father's deep gray eyes beamed down upon her

"You've sure guessed right, little gal," he said. "An' I--hope it was dollar time."

At that instant Jeff thrust his way through the crowd, and the warmth of his smile flooded the girl's heart with happiness.

"Say, Nan," he cried, holding out his hand with an enthusiasm that was hardly to be expected in one who has lost, "you got us all beat a mile.

You surely have. Sa.s.safras. My old Sa.s.safras. Say, who'd 'a' thought it?" Nan's hand remained clasped in his, and she seemed to have no desire to withdraw it. Jeff looked round into Bud's face. "Do you know what she's won? Do you, Nan?" he went on to the girl again.

Nan laughed. It was all she wanted to do.

"Not a notion, Jeff. I handed you all Daddy gave me. How much was it, Daddy?"

"Five hundred."

Nan's eyes widened in alarm.

"Five hundred? And I bet it all on--Sa.s.safras!"

"And you've won nearly five thousand," cried Jeff, stirred completely out of himself at the girl's success.

"I--I must have been--crazy," she declared, in an awed voice.

Bud laughed, but his eyes were full of a sympathy that had no meaning for the others.

"Not crazy, little Nan. Jest good grit. Guess Jeff didn't see the pool waitin' around for him to pick up. Wal, guess ther's a heap o'

folk like him. You played right out for a win, an' you won--by a head."

CHAPTER XI

ELVINE VAN BLOOREN

It was the last day of the Cattle Week. A week which, for at least three people, was fraught with something in the nature of epoch-making events. All that the simple heart of Nan Tristram had looked forward to, yearned for, had been denied her from the first moment she had beheld that unmistakable lightening up of Jeff's eyes on his meeting with Elvine van Blooren. It had been a revelation of dread. Her own secret hopes had been set shaking to their very foundations. And from that moment on, during the rest of the week, brick by brick the whole edifice of them had been set tumbling. By the last day nothing but a pile of debris remained.

Holiday! It had been a good deal less than holiday. She had looked forward to one all too brief succession of days of delight. Jeff, who had been honored by his fellows in the world which was theirs. Jeff, the leader in the great industry which absorbed them all. Jeff, the man by his very temperament marked out for a worldly success only bounded by the limitations of his personal ambitions. She had been so proud of him. She had been so thankful to be allowed to share in his triumphs. She had shared in them, too--up till that meeting with Elvine van Blooren at the reception. After that--ah, well, there had been very little after for Nan.

And the man himself. Four days had sufficed to reduce Jeff's feelings to a condition of love-sickness such as is best a.s.sociated with extreme youth. Furthermore its hold upon him was deeper, more lasting by reason of the innate strength of his character.

As for Elvine van Blooren it would be less easy to say. Her beauty was of a darkly reticent order. Hers was the face, the eyes, the manner yielding up few secrets. She rarely imparted confidence even to her mother. And a woman who denies her mother rarely yields confidence to any other human creature.