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. Pawnee is in the lead, Fanny 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 passionate soul. Evan's companions looked at him with awe, and Harris shivered a bit, drawing a little away. The passions of the revengeful lad had been wonderfully aroused by the liquor he had taken, and he showed at his very worst just then.