It was the day of the great race.

Shirley jumped out of bed eagerly, and shook Mabel, who was still sleeping soundly.

“Mabel! Mabel!” she called.

Mabel turned sleepily.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“Time to get up,” was the reply. “It’s almost eight o’clock. This is Derby day.”

“So it is,” exclaimed Mabel, awake in an instant now.

She jumped out of bed and the girls dressed quickly.

Mr. Willing and the others were already up and dressed when the girls came from their rooms, and they all went down to breakfast together.

It was during the meal that Mr. Willing was suddenly called by a page.

“Gentleman to see you sir,” said the boy.

Mr. Willing excused himself and left the dining room. He was back in a few minutes, however, and said to Shirley:

“The rest of you will have to come to the track by yourselves. I have some business to attend to. I’ll meet you there. I’ll leave the car for you.”

Mr. Ashton spoke up.

“I have some business matters to see about also,” he said. “I’ll go with you, and Jimmy and the girls can use the car.”

This plan was agreed upon.

“By the way, Dad,” said Shirley suddenly, as her father rose to go, “Dick is going with us.”

“Dick!” repeated Mr. Willing. “Who in the world is Dick?”

Shirley explained.

“Bring him by all means,” said her father. “I shall be glad to see him.”

At the door he turned.

“Meet me in our quarters at 1 o’clock,” he said; then to Jimmy: “Jimmy, you had better dress here in the hotel.”

Jimmy answered that he would do so, and Mr. Willing and Mr. Ashton took their departure.

The girls waited impatiently for Dick to arrive. He was announced sharp on the stroke of ten, and was shown to their suite.

“We had better leave here about noon,” he said. “The crowd will be immense and it may take us some time to get to the track.”

This was agreed upon.

The four strolled about the street until eleven o’clock, when they returned to the hotel for lunch.

Jimmy partook of a very light meal, for he wished to be in exact condition for the race. He left the table before the others, announcing that he would go upstairs and change to his jockey clothes.

Fifteen minutes later the others followed him.

There was not a sound in the room when the three entered and a peculiar feeling came over Shirley.

“Jimmy!” she called suddenly.

There was no answer, and again the girl called.

Still no answer.

“What in the world can be the matter?” asked the girl anxiously. She turned to Dick. “Will you go into Jimmy’s room and see what is wrong?” she asked.

Dick disappeared into the other room and the two girls waited nervously.

They heard Dick’s voice raised in an exclamation, and he came dashing back.

“Don’t be alarmed,” he said quietly, as the girls rose and ran to him.

“What’s the matter?” demanded Shirley, wringing her hands. “Where is Jimmy?”

“He is in there,” said Dick. “But he has been hurt.”

“Hurt!” exclaimed both girls in one voice.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Well,” said Dick quietly, “he was struck over the head with a club.”

The girls cried out in dismay.

“He is still unconscious,” Dick continued. “I found him on the floor. I tried to revive him, but it was no use. I laid him on the bed.”

“What are we to do?” said Mabel. “Gabriel will not be able to run.”

“Never mind the race now,” said Shirley. “Let’s call a doctor for Jimmy. His life is more important than the race.”

She stepped quickly to the telephone and summoned the hotel physician. Then all went into Jimmy.

The lad had not had time to change into his jockey costume. Apparently he had been struck down the moment he entered the room.

As Shirley bent over him, he moved restlessly and opened his eyes. He saw Shirley, and smiled slightly.

“What’s the matter, Jimmy?” asked the girl gently. “How did it happen?”

“I don’t know,” came the weak reply. “Something hit me as I stepped in the door.”

Dick came up to the bed at this point. In his hand he held a short cudgel.

“Here is the weapon,” he said quietly.

“But who did it?” asked Shirley.

“It’s some of Jones’ work, I should say,” said Mabel.

“Of course,” agreed Dick.

At this moment Jimmy tried to sit up.

“What time is it?” he asked in a feeble voice.

Shirley looked at her watch.

“Quarter after twelve,” she said.

“Then I must get up,” declared Jimmy. “I must get to the track.”

A knock sounded at the door, and the hotel physician entered. He made a quick examination.

“Can I ride in the Derby this afternoon?” asked Jimmy eagerly.

The doctor shook his head.

“You’ll stay in bed for a week,” he said quietly.

“But I must get to the track,” said Jimmy. “Mr. Willing is depending on me! I must go.”

“It is impossible,” said the physician.

“Then what shall we do?” cried the boy. “Who will ride Gabriel?”

“I guess Gabriel will not run,” said the physician quietly.

“But he will,” cried Shirley, “and he shall win too.”

The others looked at the girl in surprise.

“What do you mean?” demanded Mabel.

The girl took a long breath, then said quietly:

“I will ride him!”

The others uttered exclamations of surprise.

“But you can’t, Shirley,” protested Mabel.

“But I will,” came the firm reply.

“Your father would never hear of such a thing.”

“He doesn’t need to know anything about it. But the rest of you must help me. I’ll dress here in Jimmy’s clothes. No one will know the difference. I have played Jimmy once and I can do it again. But you, Mabel, and you, Dick, must keep between me and father as much as possible.”

“What will your father say when he fails to see you at the track? He will want to know what has become of you.”

“Then you must tell him something that will satisfy him for the time.”

Shirley looked at her watch again.

“Twenty minutes past twelve. I shall have to hurry,” she said.

Quickly she went to Jimmy’s trunk and pulled forth his jockey clothes. Then she hastened to her own room.

The others waited her return without a word.

“How do I look?” came a voice from the doorway at last.

Jimmy, Dick, Mabel and the doctor took one look and cried out in surprise.

“Great Scott! I wouldn’t have believed it possible,” declared the physician.

In her red and blue costume—the Willing colors—Shirley indeed made a pretty picture. Her cap was pulled down well over her face and her thick hair was coiled up under it. In her hand she held Jimmy’s short whip.

“Will I do?” she asked.

“You look enough like this lad to be his twin,” said the physician quietly. “You’ll do.”

“We must hurry,” declared Shirley. “Ready, Mabel? Ready, Dick?”

“Yes,” they answered.

Shirley approached Jimmy.

“I’ll try not to lose your reputation,” she said gently. “I’ll do the best I know how, and I am sure that Gabriel will try for me.”

“There is no doubt about that,” replied Jimmy. “With you on Gabriel’s back, I feel more certain of the outcome of the race than I would if I were there myself.”

Shirley held out her hand and the lad grasped it warmly.

“Be very careful,” he warned her. “Watch the others closely. They will probably try some crookedness, for they must all be in it together. Keep as clear of the field as possible, and let Gabriel run his own race.”

“I shall remember,” said Shirley. “And now good-bye.”

She pressed Jimmy’s hand gently and stepped toward the door. The physician stopped her.

“I want to say,” he declared, “that you are the bravest girl I have ever seen. I am sure that you will win.”

“Thank you, doctor,” replied Shirley with a slight smile. “Take good care of Jimmy.”

“I shall stay right here until you return,” said the doctor, knowing this would make Shirley less worried about Jimmy during her absence.

Shirley nodded and passed out of the room ahead of her friends.

The Willing touring car stood in front of the hotel, and the chauffeur—a man Mr. Willing had hired because he knew the town—was waiting.

Shirley stood aside while Mabel and Dick climbed in, and then she got in after them.

“To the race track,” she commanded, “and hurry.”

Mabel looked at her watch.

“Twenty-five minutes to one,” she remarked.

“Good,” replied Shirley. “We’ll make it.”