All Louisville, it seemed, was at the Derby that day.

From early in the morning until after the races started, crowds continued to pour into the grandstand and overflow into the paddock. Thousands of women, in brilliant costumes, gave a picturesque touch to the scene. It was indeed a gala day.

Gaily decked in bright colors, the grandstand presented an attractive appearance. Everywhere happiness and light-heartedness prevailed. It was the day of the year when Louisville gave itself over to frolic.

The races were scheduled to start at 2 o’clock, and as the winner of the first event flashed under the wire the crowd cheered. But in spite of these first events—good races though they were—the crowd waited impatiently for the superb horses that were to fight for the Derby.

It was a few minutes after 1 o’clock when Shirley, Mabel and Dick reached the track, and hurried to the Willing quarters. Mr. Willing was pacing up and down anxiously when they appeared, and Mr. Ashton and Leonard were beside him.

Gabriel, all ready for the race, stood quietly nearby.

“Well, here you are at last,” said Mr. Willing as the three approached them. “Where is Shirley?”

“Oh, she will be here soon,” said Mabel. “Don’t worry about her. Let me introduce Dick Stanley, Mr. Willing, the boy who came so nobly to our aid.”

Mr. Willing extended his hand and the lad grasped it.

“I am glad to know you,” said the former. “Allow me to thank you for the service you rendered me.”

“It was nothing,” said Dick and stepped back.

All this time Shirley had contrived to keep her back to her father, for she was well aware that if he should recognize her he would not permit her to ride.

At that moment Leonard approached.

He looked sharply at the supposed jockey, and then stepped back suddenly and opened his mouth to speak.

Shirley laid a finger to her lips in a quick gesture, and Leonard closed his mouth without a word. Nevertheless he continued to stare at her in amazement.

Mr. Willing, not suspecting anything of this nature, did not glance closely at the jockey, which was fortunate. Shirley kept her cap pulled well down, and thus avoided detection.

“The Derby will be called a few minutes after three,” said Mr. Willing. “Are you ready, Jimmy?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Shirley, imitating Jimmy’s voice as nearly as she could.

“Are you feeling perfectly fit?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

He led the way to the scales, where Shirley was weighed.

“Ninety-eight,” said Mr. Willing, stepping back. “Good.”

The time came at last, and Shirley, seated firmly upon Gabriel’s back, rode slowly toward the barrier. Mr. Willing followed, giving last advice.

“Get away as well as you can,” he told her, “and give Gabriel his head. Under no circumstances use the whip. Let Gabriel run his own race.”

Shirley nodded her understanding of these orders, but made no reply. Mr. Willing stepped back and joined the others.

“I wonder where Shirley is?” he said.

“Oh, perhaps she stopped to talk to some one,” said Mabel quietly.

“Well, I guess she is safe enough,” said Mr. Willing. “Come.”

He led the way to the paddock and the others followed.

After some trouble they succeeded in gaining advantageous places, and turned their eyes toward the track. And at that moment a familiar voice near Mabel said:

“Great Scott! Gabriel is going to run.”

Mabel turned and glanced at the speaker. It was Jones, and even as Mabel looked he turned upon the man beside him.

“I thought you told me you had fixed the jockey!” he exclaimed.

“I did,” he declared. “I knocked him cold.”

“Then how is it that he is in the race?”

“I don’t know. I don’t see how it is possible. Maybe they got another boy at the last minute.”

Jones looked long through his field glasses.

“No. It’s the same,” he declared.

Again he whirled upon the man angrily.

“You have betrayed me,” he cried.

“It’s a lie,” said the other.

Jones moved toward him, and the other turned and ran. Jones ran after him.

In the meantime, Shirley, hunched almost on Gabriel’s neck, had ridden forth with the others. The reins she held in her right hand with the whip, while with the other she stroked her horse’s neck.

“You know me, don’t you, Gabriel?” she whispered.

Gabriel’s reply was a low whinny.

Shirley patted him gently.

“And we are going to win, aren’t we, Gabriel?”

Again the big horse whinnied.

At the post Shirley turned in alongside the others. Upon her right, nearest the rail outside, was another great black horse, and Shirley did not need to be told that this was Jupiter, the animal upon which the bookmakers were depending to win the race.

He was a wicked-looking brute, and his eyes were fiery red.

“I’ll have to watch him,” thought the girl.

She gazed at the other eight entries. Noble-looking animals they were, the best of Kentucky stock. She noticed several of the jockeys eyeing her queerly.

“Yes, I shall have to be careful,” she said.

The signal to line up at the barrier was given.

The high-strung horses moved about nervously. A pistol cracked, and they were off down the track. But the starter called them back. It was a false start.

Shirley showed superb horsemanship. She maneuvered for position as well as any of the rest, and just before the pistol cracked the second time, she was but two removed from the inside rail.

Next to her, closer to the rail, was Jupiter.

“They’re off!”

The cry came from the grandstand, and was followed by a prolonged cheer.

Shirley found herself slightly behind the leaders at the first jump, but she did not worry. She knew what Gabriel could do, and she was perfectly satisfied with her position.

In a bunch the field swept down the track. Shirley found herself wedged in between Jupiter and a powerful sorrel on her other side. In this way they continued for the first half-mile.

Gradually the three leaders, Jupiter, Gabriel and the big sorrel forged ahead of the field, and at the three-quarter mark the sorrel dropped behind. He was unable to keep up the terrific pace.

Jupiter was still running slightly ahead and going easily. Not once had his jockey used his whip or urged him to greater effort. Nor had there as yet been any attempt at unfairness.

Shirley held a tight rein upon Gabriel, and the animal had not yet let himself out. In spite of her father’s instructions, Shirley was riding her own race. She believed that she knew more about Gabriel than either her father or Jimmy.

And now, with the finish a quarter of a mile ahead, Shirley let Gabriel out slightly, and he came up on even terms with Jupiter in a few strides.

Then Jupiter’s rider got busy. He loosened his reins and began to coax. But Gabriel remained on even terms. Jupiter’s jockey stopped coaxing and began to ply his whip, and at the first smart blow, Jupiter leaped ahead.

Shirley let Gabriel out another notch, and then another, and once more the two big black horses were neck and neck. Try as he would, Jupiter could not shake Gabriel off.

Glancing ahead, Shirley saw that the finish was close in front. The crowd had gone wild. With the horses rushing for the wire, bedlam had broken loose. Flags and pennants waved and men and women shouted hoarsely.

But of this Shirley neither heard nor saw anything. Her eyes were fixed upon the wire and she knew nothing but that Gabriel must be the first under it.

And now, as the two great horses thundered down to the finish, Shirley leaned forward on Gabriel’s neck and whispered to him. The noble animal responded, and with a tremendous leap forged ahead of his rival.

At the same moment, Jupiter’s rider, realizing that he could not overtake his opponent, lashed out with his whip.

The blow caught Shirley squarely across the face, and she reeled, and for a moment Gabriel was almost thrown off his stride. But the gallant horse recovered quickly, and with a last desperate effort, leaped forward under the wire—a winner by a neck.

Shirley, in great pain, still had the presence of mind to pull Gabriel in, and sick and faint, she headed him quickly for the Willing stable.

But Mr. Willing and the others, as well as the rest of the crowd, had seen the cowardly act, and a great cry of anger rose in the air. Mr. Willing made for his stable at top speed, the others following.

At his stable, Gabriel stopped.

Shirley swayed in the saddle and toppled over; and Mr. Willing, running up at that moment, arrived just in time to catch her in his arms.

Gently he laid her on the ground. Her cap fell from her head, and her long hair came tumbling down.

Mr. Willing stood still in his surprise.

“Shirley!” he cried, and gathered her up in his arms.