But he was unconscious, and unconscious he remained, with some brain-fever. He talked and tossed, and his mother sat stonily by his side.

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“Malabar! It’s Malabar! Bassett, Bassett, I know! It’s Malabar!”

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So the child cried, trying to get up and urge the rocking-horse that gave him his inspiration.

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“What does he mean by Malabar?” asked the heart-frozen mother.

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“I don’t know,” said the father stonily.

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“What does he mean by Malabar?” she asked her brother Oscar.

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“It’s one of the horses running for the Derby,” was the answer.