Frank Merriwell's Races Part 15

Then he rushed away.

"Oh, well!" said Baldwin, with a satisfied smile; "I don't care which way the wind blows now. I have made my commission on this work to-day, and I have nothing to lose. If those fellows slip up in their plans it won't be my funeral."

Then he lighted a cigar and strolled away.

Rattleton and Diamond watched Nemo closely, permitting Toots to get an hour's sleep. Then the colored boy came out feeling first rate, and Merriwell showed up to take his friends to have something to eat.

"By Jove!" he exclaimed, with a happy laugh. "One of you fellows will have to loan me the money to settle for the feed. I've staked every cent on Nemo, and I haven't enough left to purchase a sandwich."

"Whew!" whistled Diamond. "Haven't you been plunging pretty steep, old man?"

"Oh, I don't know!" smiled Frank. "We'll have money to start a conflagration with when we return to New Haven."

"I think so," agreed Jack; "but there are slips."

"Now, Toots," said Frank, "we are going to leave Nemo in your care for a short time. You know what I expect of you."

"Yes, sar, an' you may 'pend on me, sar."

"All right, my boy. Come on, fellows."

Away the three went, arm in arm, laughing and joking, like the light-hearted fellows they were.

Ten minutes after they left Toots decided to give Nemo some water. He stepped out of the stall for a bucket. As he picked it up he fancied he heard a suspicious sound inside the stall, and he hurried back.

When the colored boy stepped into the stall he saw a tough-looking young man in a plaid suit offering Nemo an apple. It was Mike Hogan.

"G'wan frum dat hawse, man!" shouted Toots, as he flung the bucket straight at Mike's head.

The bucket struck Hogan, knocked him down, and he lay stunned almost beneath the feet of Frank Merriwell's racer.

An hour later the starter's flag had fallen and the "free for all" at Mystic Park had begun.

Among the spectators were three lads who were excitedly watching the beginning of the race.

They were Hartwick, Harlow and Harris.

"If that horse is doctored I'm a fool!" declared Harlow, his eyes fastened on Frank Merriwell's Nemo.

"He must be--he must be!" palpitated Hartwick, whose eyes were bloodshot and whose face was flushed so that it betrayed he had been drinking heavily.

"Nemo starts all right," said Harris, in an agitated voice. "I should not wonder if Harlow were right, Hartwick, my boy."

"Then Hogan has betrayed me!" came gratingly from Hartwick. "If he has I'll have his life!"

"Where is the fellow?" asked Harlow. "He should be on hand."

"That's right, where is he?" echoed Harris. "He has not reported."

"But he was sure he would not fail," said Hartwick. "He had everything fixed with one of the stablemen, and he said he knew he could get into Nemo's stall."

"All the same I'll wager that Frank Merriwell will come out on top again," fluttered Harris. "It is just his luck. Perhaps he has outwitted us in some way."

"No! no!" exclaimed Hartwick, with sudden satisfaction. "See--see there!

Already Nemo is dropping behind Black Boy. p.a.w.nee is in the lead, f.a.n.n.y D. is second, Lightfoot is third, and now Black Boy has pushed ahead of Nemo! Ha! ha! ha! Everything is all right! Hogan has done his work, and the stuff is beginning to tell on Merriwell's racer at just the right time. We'll send the fellow back to Yale penniless, and then I will jump on him with his paper. I'll expose him as a race-track gambler, a fraud, a swindler! I'll ruin his college career, as he ruined mine! But I'll not be satisfied then. I'll hound him till he is weary of his life!

I'll make him remember the day he dared lift his hand against Evan Hartwick! I can feel his blow now! It left a mark on my cheek. That mark is not there now, but the scar is on my heart! Nothing can cure it but full and absolute reprisal! This is my first triumph!"

Hartwick almost frothed at the mouth, and his reddish eyes glared as if there were a glowing furnace within his pa.s.sionate soul.

Evan's companions looked at him with awe, and Harris shivered a bit, drawing a little away.

The pa.s.sions of the revengeful lad had been wonderfully aroused by the liquor he had taken, and he showed at his very worst just then.

"Toots does not seem to be pushing Nemo as he might," muttered Harlow.

"The boy is taking it easy. If I did not know the attempt had failed I should think he had been bought off."

"p.a.w.nee can't hold the lead," declared Harris. "I am willing to bet all I have that he will not take the race."

"Hang p.a.w.nee!" snarled Hartwick. "I do not care which horses secure the purses, if Merriwell's animal is not one of them."

"Well, it begins to look as if you were safe," came with some satisfaction from Harlow. "Black Boy is the favorite and he is crawling now. Already he is neck and neck with Lightfoot."

Hartwick's hand shook as he adjusted the field gla.s.ses he held and brought them to bear on the racing horses.

"It's all right. I know it's all right!" he muttered, hoa.r.s.ely.

"Lightfoot is holding the lead on Nemo. Frank Merriwell's horse is fifth, and the animal will not hold out to get around the track. I believe Nemo is swaying now. The horses behind are gaining! Ha! ha! How it will wring Merriwell's heart to see his beauty come in last!"

"This is early," cautioned Harris. "They have just reached the quarter now. Wait till they pa.s.s us before you begin to count your chickens, old man."

The spectators grew excited as the racing horses swung around the half-mile track and came flying down toward the judges' stand on their first round. Men waved their hats and cheered, the white handkerchiefs of women were fluttering.

"Black Boy! Black Boy! He is the winner for a thousand!" roared a big man in the grand stand.

"f.a.n.n.y D.! f.a.n.n.y D.!" shouted another. "She is taking the lead!"

This was true. p.a.w.nee, as Harris had declared, proved unequal to the task of holding the lead. In the second quarter f.a.n.n.y D. crept alongside and gradually forged ahead, for all that Black Boy's rider used whip and voice.

Poor old Lightfoot was steadily losing ground, and Hartwick ground his teeth as he saw Nemo come into fourth place. Still it did not seem that Merriwell's horse had made a spurt.

And then, as the horses came thundering down the track, a sudden change seemed to come over the black boy on Nemo's back. He leaned far forward, and appeared to be talking into Nemo's ears, which were laid almost straight back. He cut the air with his whip, but the lash did not fall on the glossy coat of the handsome animal.

"Look!" palpitated Harlow. "See Nemo! The creature has awakened! That horse is all right! Hartwick, I believe Merriwell will secure third money, after all."

"Not on your life!" ground forth Evan, his eyes glaring. "The creature is doing his best now."

As the foremost racers shot past the judges' stand at the expiration of the first half, it was seen that f.a.n.n.y D. had taken the lead away from p.a.w.nee, while Black Boy was steadily gaining. Although Nemo had shown a streak of speed he had not grown dangerous.

But now came the time when the mettle of the racers was to be tested.

Black Boy responded n.o.bly to whip and voice. He went ahead in a marvelous manner. He was soon nose and nose with p.a.w.nee, and then he took second place, with his nose at f.a.n.n.y D.'s flank.