Frank Merriwells Races | Page 3

home. He is fond of horses."
"Has he ever ridden in a race?"
"Twice."
"Did he win?"
"Once. My uncle, who kindly left me his fortune, was a crank on fast horses, and he owned a number of them. Toots could ride some of them that would allow nobody else to mount them. Uncle Asher had horses in the races every year, but he was often 'done' by his jockeys. He knew it well enough, but he found it impossible to get the sort of jockey he wanted. Toots begged to ride a race, but he was a little shaver, and uncle was afraid. Finally, one day, just before a race was to come off, Uncle Asher discovered that his jockey had sold out. At the last moment he fired the fellow, and was forced to let Toots ride, or withdraw his horse. Toots rode, and won. The next time he rode he might have won, but the horse was doped."
"He's just the chap you want!" nodded Jack, with satisfaction. "Put Nemo into the Bethany races, and let Toots ride him."
"I'll think of it," said Frank.
A hostler approached the group.
"Howdy do, Mr. Merriwell, sir?" he said. "One of your friends called to see your horse this morning, sir."
"One of my friends?" cried Frank, in surprise. "Who was it?"
"He gave his name as Diamond, sir--Jack Diamond."
Merriwell immediately turned on Jack and asked:
"Hello, how about this? Did you call to see Nemo this morning?"
"Not much!" exclaimed Jack. "This is the first time I have been here. The hostler is mistaken."
"You must have misunderstood your visitor, Grody," said Frank. "He could not have given his name as Jack Diamond, for this is Jack Diamond here."
The man stared at Jack, and then shook his head.
"That's not the feller," he declared.
"Of course not. Your visitor must have given you some other name."
"Not on your life," returned Grody, promptly. "He said his name was Jack Diamond, sir, and I will swear to that."
"Well, this is somewhat interesting!" came grimly from Frank. "What did he do, Grody?"
"He looked Nemo over, sir."
"Looked Nemo over how--in what way?"
"Why, I offered to take Nemo out of the stall, but he said no, not to bother, as he only wished to glance at the horse. He went to the stall, which same I showed him, and looked in. The door wasn't locked, for I had just been cleanin' the stall out. He opened the door and stood there some little time. First thing I knew he was gone. I went and looked into the stall, and he was examinin' Nemo's feet. He seemed wonderful interested in the horse, and I saw by the way he acted he knew something about horses."
"The interest deepens," observed Frank. "Go on, Grody."
"When he came out of the stall he says to me, says he, 'Merriwell has struck a right good piece of horseflesh there.' Says I, 'In the best of my judgment he has, sir.' Says he, 'I understand he paid a fancy figure for the gelding, something like a thousand, he told me.' Says I, 'If he told you that I have no doubt he told you correct, sir.' Then says he, 'Does he mean to race him?' 'That,' says I, 'bein' a friend of Mr. Merriwell, is something what you should know as well as I, or better.' Then he says, says he, 'Horses is mighty uncertain property, for you never can tell what may happen to them.' In this I agreed with him, but there was something about him I didn't like much. Then he went away."
Frank whistled.
"This is highly interesting," exclaimed Frank. "What did this fellow look like, Grody? Can you describe him?"
"Well, I looked him over rather careful like, sir, but I don't know as I can describe him particular, except that he had on a checked suit and wore a red necktie, in which were a blazer, genuine, or to the contrary. I know horses, but I'm no judge of diamonds. He was smooth shaved, and his jaw were rather square and his hair short. The eyes of him never looked straight at me once. Somehow I didn't think he were a student, for he made one or two breaks in the words he said that made his talk different from your student's. He didn't have that sort of real gentleman way with him neither."
Frank turned to his friends.
"Now what do you suppose this business means, fellows?" he asked.
"It means crookedness!" declared Diamond, rather excitedly. "I am dead sure of that!"
"It looks that way," admitted Browning.
"But what sort of crookedness can it mean?" asked Frank, bewildered. "What is the game?"
"That will develop later; but there is some kind of a game on, be sure of that," asserted Jack. "If not, why should anybody come here and give a fictitious name? That gives the