“Whoa, Dollie, whoa.”

Dollie perhaps was tiring of her mad run, for she heeded the frantic appeal.  Gently as any well-regulated machinery, she slackened speed.

Delighted at the success of her horsemanship, Beth repeated the action, crying: 

“Whoa—­nice Dollie.”  Then in a tumult of relief she shouted: 

“Hurrah, I’m not going to die after all.”

People on the grandstand heard the sweet childish cry of joy and saw Dollie a moment after come to a standstill.  Instantly a wild outburst of enthusiasm followed.  People clapped and stamped wildly, shouting themselves hoarse.  Mr. Davenport, too agitated for speech, rushed up to Beth, and clasped her close to his heart.  The jockeys clustered around, and they too clapped their hands in approval.

“Why are all the people shouting?” asked Beth.

Mr. Davenport gave her a convulsive hug and answered: 

“They are shouting for you, my dear.”

For a few seconds Beth was quite overcome, and then she whispered to her father: 

“I guess they’re not shouting for me, but for Dollie.  I didn’t really want her to go so fast, but I couldn’t stop her at first.  In fact, I thought I was going to be killed, sure.  I am very, very glad I was not thrown.”

If she was glad, Mr. Davenport was more so, but he was still too overcome to say much.  Beth was rather surprised to have him hug and kiss her so often, for generally he was not a demonstrative man.

Presently Beth said: 

“Papa, I know how to ride now, don’t I?  And say, papa, I won a box of candy from Cousin Lulu’s beau.”

One of the jockeys heard her.  He grinned his approval and said: 

“She’s got pluck enough to be one of us.  I reckon she’s born with a liking for horses.  My, didn’t the old mare go!”

CHAPTER XI

Don Meets a Sad Fate

Marian and Beth were getting ready for bed.  Marian looked tragic.  She brushed her hair so energetically that it seemed as if she must be pulling it out by the handfuls.  Suddenly, she threw down the brush, and clasped her hands dramatically.

“I simply must have the money.”

Beth, interested, looked up at her,

“What’s the matter, Marian?  I thought you had plenty of money.  You’ve been saving your allowance for weeks to spend at the Fair.”

“So I have, but I lost my pocketbook with every bit of the money at the Fair to-day.”

“Why, Marian Davenport,” Beth gasped.

Marian burst into tears.  Beth rushed up to her sister and threw her arms around her neck.

“I’m awfully sorry, Marian.”

Marian brushed the tears away and continued: 

“I hate to have papa and mamma think me so dreadfully careless, so I’m not going to let them know, but I’ve just got to have some money.  Beth, won’t you lend me part of yours?  I’ll pay you just as soon as I can get some more.”