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Fraser, William Alexander, 1859-1933

"Thoroughbreds"

If it had
not been for prying eyes she would have knelt there at Lauzanne's feet
and offered up a prayer of thankfulness. She had done all a woman could
do, almost more; Providence had not forsaken her and her stricken
father.
Then Mike had hurried her to the buggy just as Crane, leaving the beaten
Dutchman and Langdon, had come, asking Dixon where Miss Porter was, that
he might tender congratulations. He wanted to see the boy that had
ridden Lauzanne, also--wanted to take his hand and tell him what a grand
race he had ridden. But Dixon had been ready with excuses; the boy was
dead beat after the race--he was only a kid--and had gone to Dixon's
home. Miss Porter was perhaps in the stand, or perhaps she had gone
home also. Crane knew of Langdon's objection. It was a silly thing, he
said, due to overeagerness. He had taken no part in it, he assured
Dixon. Alan Porter, too, came into the paddock, asking for his sister;
but fared pretty much as Crane had. He would certainly find her at the
cottage, Dixon assured him.
That night Allis wired the joyful tidings to her father, and that she
would be home in the morning.
Dr. Rathbone's prophecy as to the proper medication for John Porter
stood a chance of being fulfilled in one day.


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