Young Leonard Wolfe, returning from town two days later, approached Mr. Willing with visible excitement.

“What’s the matter?” demanded the latter, eyeing the young man curiously.

“Matter enough, sir. I saw Jones in town.”

“What!” exclaimed Mr. Willing. “I didn’t think he would have the nerve to show his face in these parts again.”

“Nevertheless he was there, sir.”

“Did he see you?”

“No, sir. I’ll warrant he is up to some mischief.”

“Undoubtedly,” replied Mr. Willing. “We shall have to be watchful. Gabriel must be guarded every moment of the day and night.”

“My idea exactly, sir,” replied Leonard.

Shirley approached, and noticing the uneasiness of Leonard and her father, she asked what was the trouble. Leonard explained.

“He is surely planning more mischief,” exclaimed Shirley. “Gabriel must be guarded closely.”

“Exactly what we had decided upon,” declared Leonard. “Somebody, armed, must be near him all the time. I am willing to stand one watch.”

“Good,” said Mr. Willing. “Jimmy, too, is ready. Now I believe the best thing to do is to split the day and night into three parts—each watch eight hours.”

“But who will stand the third watch, Dad?” asked Shirley.

“Frank,” declared Mr. Willing.

“But Uncle Frank is so old,” protested Shirley.

“He’s not too old to use a shotgun,” replied Mr. Willing significantly. “Besides, I feel sure I can trust him.”

“I am sure of that,” replied Shirley.

“Call him for me, daughter,” said Mr. Willing.

Shirley went on this errand, and a few moments later “Uncle Frank,” an old negro, stood before them.

Mr. Willing explained the situation in a few words and Uncle Frank announced himself as not only willing but eager to stand one of the watches.

“Leonard,” said Mr. Willing, “you stand the first watch, from six o’clock in the morning until two. Jimmy can watch from two until ten, and Frank, you stand guard from ten until six in the morning.”

Mr. Willing glanced at his watch.

“It is now almost noon,” he said. “Leonard, you go to the stable and relieve Jimmy until two o’clock. In the meantime, I’ll get out my double-barreled shotgun and clean it up a bit.”

Leonard did as Mr. Willing requested.

The next two days passed quietly, and every one had about come to the conclusion that there was nothing more to be feared.

Gabriel was being given a short workout every day now, to prime him for the great Derby. Each morning and afternoon Jimmy put him through a stiff run along Willing’s trial track, and Mr. Willing, after examining the racehorse carefully, announced that he was in fine condition.

“He’s on edge right now,” he declared. “We mustn’t train him too fine, but we must give him enough work to keep him from growing stale.”

The date for the big Derby was fast approaching. Experts and racing men from all over the country came to the Willing farm almost daily, seeking to have a look at Gabriel, who had been picked almost unanimously to win the big race.

In spite of the fact that Gabriel had never been entered against horses of such class before, his fame had gone before him, for in some manner, in spite of the fact that an effort was made to keep his time in trial runs secret, it had leaked out, and there was little question that Gabriel would be the favorite upon the day of the Derby.

But to the experts and racehorse men who pleaded to look at the great black horse, Mr. Willing turned a deaf ear.

“You’ll see him in action in the Derby,” he said.

With this the visitors had to be satisfied.

“Monday,” said Mr. Willing to Shirley and the others, “we must start for Louisville. We want to be on the ground at least a week before the day of the race. Besides, Gabriel must have that time to recover from the effects of the trip.”

“Have you made your arrangements for stabling at the track?” asked Leonard.

“Yes. I shall have the same quarters as in years past. This year, however, I shall take no other horses, as has been the custom heretofore. I do not feel that I have another horse in my string that is sure to win a race, so I shall content myself with winning the Derby.”

“And Gabriel will win,” declared Shirley.

“Let us hope so,” said Leonard sincerely.

This conversation took place the Wednesday morning before the Monday set for the departure.

“Daddy,” said Shirley the following afternoon, “I haven’t ridden Gabriel for a long time. Can’t I work him out to-day?”

Mr. Willing hesitated.

“Why, I see no reason why you cannot,” he said finally. “I know Gabriel loves you, and perhaps will do more for you than he will even for Jimmy.”

Shirley clapped her hands and ran toward the stable, where she informed Jimmy of her father’s decision.

“All right, Miss Shirley,” smiled Jimmy. “I know Gabriel will be glad to have you ride him.”

“I wish I were going to ride him in the Derby,” declared Shirley.

“If you did,” said Jimmy, “the result would never be in doubt. With you on his back, Gabriel would be the first under the wire if he dropped over dead a moment later.”

Leaning forward upon Gabriel’s neck, Shirley patted the horse gently. Gabriel did not respond to this loving touch with a whinny of pleasure, as was his wont.

Instead he shook his head angrily, and stamped his feet. His jaws worked up and down violently and he champed at the bit.

“What on earth ails him?” demanded Shirley in surprise.

“I guess he is just anxious to be on the go,” was the lad’s reply.

“I never saw him act like that before,” said Shirley.

“Nor I. But I guess he will be all right after he gets out on the track and gets to going.”

Jimmy walked ahead of Shirley and opened the gates for her.

“Don’t let him out too much,” he warned her. “Just a nice even walk-out is all he needs. Don’t run him too hard.”

Shirley nodded that she understood. Jimmy stepped back, and Shirley, leaning forward once more, again patted the noble animal’s head. A moment later they were off down the track at a swift trot.

They had hardly disappeared around the first turn when a man appeared suddenly from behind a big tree and laid his hand on Jimmy’s arm. Jimmy whirled about.

“Jones!” he exclaimed in the utmost surprise.

“Yes, Jones,” said the other with a smile. “I just came out to have a look at Gabriel. Before I go back I just wanted to tell you that I do not need your services for the success of my plan.”

Jimmy stepped close to Jones and doubled up his fists.

“You get off this place immediately,” he said angrily.

Jones laughed at him.

“I suppose you will put me off if I don’t,” he sneered. “Oh, well, I am going, so don’t worry.”

He turned on his heel and stalked away.

And at that moment Shirley flashed by on Gabriel. Down the track she had seen Jimmy in conversation with a stranger, and as she whirled by she caught sight of Jones’ face, and recognized him.

“Strange,” she muttered. “What can he be talking to Jimmy about?”

And as she continued around the course Gabriel’s actions steadily became more peculiar. Twice Shirley urged him to renewed efforts, but after a short spurt he slowed down quickly. And as he ran he shook his head violently from side to side and champed more fiercely at his bit.

“Something wrong,” thought Shirley. “One more round and then back to the stable.”

On this last round Gabriel slowed down considerably and in spite of all Shirley’s urging he refused to increase his pace. At the gate this time Shirley turned out, and made for the stable.

Jimmy had preceded her there, and was waiting as she rode up. Mr. Willing, Leonard, Mr. Ashton and Mabel also stood near.

“Well, how does he go, daughter?” demanded Mr. Willing, as Shirley flung herself to the ground.

“There is something the matter with him,” said Shirley.

“What do you mean?” asked Mr. Willing quickly, and stepped forward.

He glanced searchingly at Gabriel, and just then the noble horse staggered.

Mr. Willing sprang forward with a cry of alarm.

“Help me get this bridle off immediately,” he shouted.

Jimmy and Shirley sprang to do his bidding.

The bridle came away in Mr. Willing’s hands a moment later, and the latter examined it carefully. Gabriel, in the meantime, walking very slowly, made for his stall.

Mr. Willing turned from his examination of the bridle. He held the bit in his hand.

“I was sure I could not be mistaken,” he said quietly. “I have seen too many such cases.”

“What do you mean, Dad?” said Shirley in alarm.

The others also turned to him anxiously.

“Gabriel’s bit,” said Mr. Willing calmly, holding it aloft, “has been painted.”

“Painted!” cried Shirley.

“Yes. That is the reason you noticed there was something wrong with him. That is the reason he staggered a moment ago. He is sick. Now, who is responsible for this piece of treachery?”

For a moment there was no reply. Then Shirley, taking a long breath, stepped forward.

“Jimmy,” she said quietly, “did I not see you talking with Mr. Jones a few moments ago?”

“Yes, Miss Shirley,” replied the boy, realizing what was coming.

Mr. Willing stepped forward with a cry of anger.

“Jones on my place again?” he demanded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you, sir,” replied the boy.

“Didn’t want to worry me, eh?” Mr. Willing’s face grew red with anger. He pointed sternly toward the pike. “You,” he said to Jimmy, “get your clothes right now and get off this place before I throw you off.”

Shirley buried her face in her hands.