“Can’t make him out from here,” said Mr. Willing, shading his eyes. “I wonder who he is?”
“You’ll know soon enough, Dad,” laughed Shirley. “What’s the use of wondering?”
“Well, set out a box of cigars,” said Mr. Willing, “and make a pitcher of lemonade. He’ll be thirsty after his ride.”
Shirley went towards the pantry, and returned with the lemonade just as the rider dismounted. After a glance she started back in surprise.
For the rider was indeed Mr. Jones, the man whom Shirley had travelled to Cincinnati to see.
Shirley ran around the house to where Mabel and young Wolfe were swinging in the hammock, in the shade of a giant elm.
“Jones is here,” she cried breathlessly, “what shall we do?”
“There is nothing to worry about,” said Wolfe. “He will try no foolishness here, I’m sure.”
“It’s not that I am afraid of,” returned Shirley, “but if he should talk to Jimmy he is likely to find out that he has been fooled.”
“We must prevent their meeting,” said Mabel.
“But how?” demanded Shirley, in excited tones.
“We’ll see what can be done,” said Wolfe.
He arose and went quickly to the stable, where he engaged Jimmy in conversation. Jimmy should not leave his sight until Jones had taken his departure, Wolfe said to himself.
Meantime Mr. Willing and Jones were holding a friendly conversation on the front porch. Shirley and Mabel strolled into the parlor, where, through the open window, they could hear all that was being said.
“Yes, sir,” said Jones, “it is regarded as a forgone conclusion that Gabriel will win the Derby. I’m backing him myself. Jupiter is the only other entry that has a chance.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that,” returned Mr. Willing. “I am counting on Gabriel winning. If he loses—well, I don’t mind telling you, it will hurt.”
“No,” said Mr. Willing, “I’m not. To tell the truth, I am through betting.”
“Through betting?” asked Jones, in greatest surprise.
“I see,” said Jones, and changed the subject. “I wonder if I could get a look at Gabriel?”
“Why, certainly. I’ll have some one call Jimmy, and he will show you the horse.”
“Thanks,” said Jones, and sat back to wait.
In response to the message delivered to an old negro, Jimmy came to the house. He started a little at sight of Jones, but recovered quickly. Wolfe followed him.