CHAPTER VIII.

A LOVERS' QUARREL.

Professor Mole was very much surprised at the failure of Jack and Harvey to return to the hotel, and he was still more astonished, when at midnight he received a note informing him of their arrest on a false charge of robbery.

He at once proceeded to the station and had an interview with them, and afterward procured bail in the person of the proprietor of the hotel.

The next thing was to see Mr. Cobb, who, now that his money was recovered, was in a happier frame of mind, and being satisfied of Harkaway's respectability, consented to withdraw the charge.

How the money got into Jack's pocket it was not easy to explain, and the affair remained a mystery.

It was unfortunately necessary for Harkaway to appear in court, but on Mr. Cobb's application he was discharged.

The case, however, was reported in the papers; and Jack, to his mortification, read a paragraph entitled:

"SINGULAR CHARGE AGAINST AN ENGLISH GENTLEMAN.

"Mr. Jack Harkaway and Mr. Richard Harvey, two English gentlemen of means and respectability, residing at the Brevoort House, were charged at the Jefferson Market police court with stealing a wallet containing three thousand dollars in cash and securities, from the person of Mr. Cobb, a well-known member of the Produce Exchange. The money was found on Mr. Harkaway, but Mr. Cobb, feeling assured that there was a mistake somewhere, refused to prosecute and withdrew the charge, whereupon the prisoners were discharged."

This was intensely annoying to Jack, because it stabbed his reputation and cast a slur upon his honor.

There was no possibility of explaining the matter, and he felt that his character was blackened, though his friends did not attach the importance to the occurrence that he did.

The villain, Bambino, had not succeeded in his purpose, which was to put Jack out of the way in a prison, so as to make the coast clear for his noble employer.

Yet he had inflicted a wound on a most sensitive mind, and he chuckled inwardly at the chagrin which he knew Harkaway must suffer.

With cat-like stealth he watched and waited for an opportunity to deal him another blow.

The effect of the publication above referred to was soon apparent.

Jack determined to show himself everywhere, for he thought that to hide himself would be to tacitly admit that he was guilty and felt ashamed.

Consequently he drove out nearly every day.

Mr. Mole, Captain Cannon and Mr. Twinkle were occupied in searching New York and its vicinity for buffalo; but, much to their disappointment, they could not find any.

The professor prepared an elaborate report for the club which had sent out the expedition, in which he stated: "After a prolonged investigation, I am inclined to think that the buffalo, like the mastodon and the dodo, is an extinct animal, as I can discover no trace of a living buffalo so far, though I am in hopes that when we visit Long Island, which I am told is wild and savage, we may meet with some specimen of this almost mythical beast."

There was going to be a steeple-chase at Jerome Park, and Jack sent Miss Van Hoosen an invitation to ride to the grounds.

This led to the first severe mortification he received, after the report in the papers, for Lena refused in the following brief note:

"MISS VAN HOOSEN presents her compliments to Mr. Harkaway, and begs to thank him for his invitation, which she is reluctantly compelled to decline."

On receiving this, Jack showed it to Harvey.

"Look at that, Dick," he exclaimed, "and tell me what is the meaning of it."

Harvey read it, and replied, "It is laconic enough, and it means, simply, that the lady will not go."

"What would you do, under the circumstances?"

"Call upon her and have an explanation."

"I shouldn't be surprised, if she has seen that paragraph about Mr. Cobb's money."

"More than likely."

Jack bit his lips with vexation and his face reddened.

Without losing any time he visited Lena, and was shown into the reception-room.

Presently Lena entered, looking more than usually sweet and charming.

There was some slight embarrassment in her manner, as she held out her hand and requested him to be seated.

"I am so sorry you cannot come with us," he said.

"So am I," she replied. "But I am glad to have an opportunity of explaining. There is no gentleman of my acquaintance whom I esteem more than I do you."

Jack bowed politely, and felt that he could have laid down his life for her, for saying those words.

"My brother," she continued, "has read something about you in a journal, and he says I ought not to receive your visits. I feel that there must be some mistake. If you could only see my brother and explain--"

A tall gentleman, a few years older than Jack, entered the room at this moment.

"No explanation is necessary," he exclaimed.

Jack flushed indignantly.

"I presume," he said, "I have the honor of addressing Mr. Alfred Van Hoosen?"

"That is my name," replied the new-comer, stiffly.

"And the brother of this lady?"

"Precisely, sir."

"In that case, your relationship prevents me from taking the notice of your words which I otherwise should."

"Oh, sir," said Alfred Van Hoosen, as he smiled sarcastically, "pray do not let that stand in your way."

"I was simply desirous of assuring your sister that there was absolutely no foundation for the report to which she alluded."

"The case speaks for itself."

"Am I to understand that you do not consider me a proper person to visit at your house?"

"That is what I intended to convey to you, and I have to thank you for saving me the trouble of expressing myself."

Jack turned to Lena, regarding her almost with an imploring glance.

"Do you concur in your brother's opinion?" he asked.

She would not trust herself to speak, but inclined her head.

Burning with mortification, Jack quitted the house with despair in his heart, for it seemed as if Lena was lost to him forever.

In order to regain her good-will it would be necessary to satisfy her brother, and as he would listen to no explanation, this course seemed impossible.

For some time he was inconsolable, but he determined to go to the race all the same, hoping that he might at least see Lena there.

It was a lovely day, and all the wealth and fashion of New York was hastening toward the Park.

On Eighth avenue they passed an open carriage, in which were seated Miss Van Hoosen and her mother.

In spite of his dismissal of the day before, Jack ventured to raise his hat, but Lena did not bow, though he fancied her eyes appeared to seek his.

"Fine girl that," remarked a gentleman who sat by Jack. "You appear to know her."

"Yes," replied Jack, "I met them in Paris--that is--her mother and herself."

"Fine family. Best in New York. Regular Knickerbocker stock. Are you acquainted with her brother?"

"I have met him," said Jack a little confused.

"He rides to-day."

"Indeed! I was not aware of that."

"Yes, he mounts a horse called Warrior. The knowing ones are betting two to one on him, and I heard him say at the Union Club last night, that if he won he would give the cup to his sister."

Jack was not of an uncharitable disposition, but some how or another he hoped that Alfred Van Hoosen would not win.

At length the course was reached, and Jack took a walk to the starting-place to have a look at the horses.

He was an excellent cross-country rider himself, and he loved a horse dearly.

All at once he saw a gentleman drive up to one of the stables, and alight hurriedly from his buggy. In doing which he slipped from the step and fell heavily to the ground.

A cry of pain escaped him.

"Confound it," he exclaimed. "I've sprained my ankle."

It was Alfred Van Hoosen.

Leaning on the arm of his trainer, who hurried up to offer his support, he entered the stable.

Jack lingered around the spot to see what the result of the accident would be, for it appeared as if Mr. Van Hoosen would be unable to ride his horse that day.

While he was waiting, Harvey met him and said excitedly:

"I have been looking for you."

"Anything happened?" asked Jack.

"Oh! no, but I want you to be upon your guard."

"What for?"

"Near the grand stand, I saw that Italian ruffian Bambino, whom Lord Maltravers hired to kill you."

Jack smiled incredulously.

"My dear fellow," he replied, "it is evident to me that you have got Bambino on the brain."

"I can trust my eyes, I suppose," answered Harvey, a little petulantly.

"Not in this case. You have seen a man who resembles Bambino, that is all."

"And I distinctly assert it is the assassin himself."

"Bosh!"

"All right. A willful man must have his way," said Harvey, shrugging his shoulders.

"I should like to argue the point with you, but you are such a confirmed skeptic, I fear I should be wasting my time."

"Oh, no, I am open to conviction," Harkaway rejoined.

"Well, now, is it not possible that when the assassin jumped overboard he might have gained the abandoned vessel?"

"Possible, but not probable."

"Granting the fact of his having gained it, could he not have been taken off and brought to New York?"

"Ah!" said Jack, drawing a deep breath.

"What do you think now?"

"I begin to believe in your Bambino."

"Shake hands on that. I think I begin to see how the money of Mr. Cobb came into your pocket; it was an attempt to blast your reputation. Having failed to kill you, he stabs your character and wounds you in your tenderest and most susceptible part. Here is another point--Lord Maltravers, this scoundrel's master, is your rival for the affections of Miss Van Hoosen."

"Undoubtedly!"

"Well, you call and are refused the house, simply on account of this alleged robbery. What is more calculated to please Maltravers!"

"True. I am willing to admit, Dick, that you are a genius, and I will be on my guard, as you suggest," said Jack.

The course was crowded with people and carriages. It was the most brilliant gathering of the year, and still the people came.

A bell rung to give notice that the start for the steeple-chase was about to be made.

There were a dozen entries; some of the horses were ridden by their owners, some by professional jockeys.

The horses and their riders began to show themselves on the track, and some took preliminary canters, exciting the admiration and criticism of the spectators.

Presently, the trainer of Warrior came out of the stable, looking very much disconcerted.

He approached two men who were standing near Harkaway, and the conversation which ensued was distinctly audible.

"Is the boss much hurt?" asked one.

"Yes, his foot has swelled so that I had to cut his boot off. He's lying on a bale of hay, and in great pain."

"Then he won't ride Warrior to-day?"

"He can't."

"What are you going to do about it?" asked the man.

"He wants you to take the mount and will pay you well. He knows you are a good rider."

"I'm not going to risk breaking my neck, by riding a beast with such a temper as Warrior," replied the man.

"You're a fool."

"Maybe so, in your estimation, but I'm not tired of my life yet. Why, I would not cross that brute's back in a flat race, let alone a steeple-chase. Mr. Van Hoosen is the only one who can manage him, and perhaps he'd come to grief at the first steep fence."

"Then we shall have to withdraw him," said the trainer sadly.

"That's all you can do."

"It's a pity, for I thought he'd win _sure_, and I have bet more money on him than I care to lose."

Impelled by an irresistible motive, and filled with a dare-devil spirit, which he could not keep down at times, Harkaway touched the trainer on the shoulder.

"Do you want some one to ride your horse?" he demanded.

"Yes, sir."

"I'll do it."

The trainer eyed him curiously, and the result of his inspection appeared to be satisfactory.

"How much do you want for it?" he inquired.

"Nothing at all. I am a gentleman, and will do it just for the fun of the thing."

"Beg pardon, sir," replied the trainer touching his hat respectfully.

"Get the colors, bring them into the stable, and I'll soon be in the saddle."

"Won't you come inside and see Mr. Van Hoosen, sir?"

"It is not necessary. I--I don't care to disturb him. Besides, there is no time to be lost. There goes the bell to clear the course, again, and most of the horses are in the paddock."

"Who shall I tell master is riding the horse, sir?"

"Say Mr. Smith," replied Jack, who wished to keep his identity concealed from Mr. Van Hoosen.

The trainer led the way to the stables; the jockey's dress was brought and put on; Warrior was led out. He was a powerful horse, well-bred and in every respect a magnificent animal. He threw his ears back and kicked out viciously as if to show his temper.

"What are you going to do, Jack?" asked Harvey.

"Ride the beauty," was the reply.

"He's no lamb, if I'm any judge. Look at his ugly eye."

Jack patted Warrior's neck, saying, "Soho! my lad. Steady!" When he sprung into the saddle, grasped the reins firmly and received the whip from the trainer.

"Be careful how you use the spur, sir," exclaimed the latter.

Jack nodded carelessly.

"Go and put your money on, Dick," he said. "I mean to win this race or break the horse's heart and my own neck, just to show a certain young lady and her brother what I can do."

Touching Warrior lightly with his whip, he cantered toward the inclosure, where the other horses had already assembled.

The Van Hoosen colors were, black cap and white shirt with large black bands. If not pretty, it was at least very conspicuous and calculated to attract attention.