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.