He gave a sharp cry of astonishment, for going up the steps in front of them was the boy himself, Alan. Presently he came down again, his face looking drawn and perplexed. In his ignorance of everything pertaining to racing Mortimer feared for an instant the theft of the thousand dollars had been discovered, and the present inquiry had something to do with that, else why was Alan mixed up in it.
As the boy came through the little gate Mortimer accosted him. “Hello, Alan!” he exclaimed, very gently, “what's the trouble?”
“Just a silly mistake,” answered Porter, a weak laugh following his words; “Langdon has claimed that I rode Lauzanne.”
“Is dat it?” interposed Old Bill; “an' did you tell dem dey was wrong-de stiffs! Dere's cutt'roat Langdon up again; here he comes back, looking as tough he'd been fired fer splint--de crook! Hello! it's all right Hoo-ray! Lauzanne gits de race!” For already the cry of “All right!” was ringing through the betting ring. “Come on, pard,” called Old Bill, eagerly, to Mortimer; “let's go an' rake down de dough.”
“In a minute,” the other answered; and turning to Alan Porter, took him by the arm and led him to one side. “I suppose you lost over The Dutchman,” he said.
“Yes, I'm broke,” answered the boy, with a plaintive smile.
“You betting!” exclaimed Alan, in astonishment.
“Yes--strange, isn't it? But I'm going to put that money of your father's back.”
The boy said nothing, and Mortimer fancied that his face flushed guiltily.
“Yes, I can put it back now that Lauzanne's won,” continued Mortimer; “but don't say a word to a soul about it, I don't want anybody to know I was betting.”
“I've won a thousand dollars on Lauzanne--”
“Come on, pard,” said Old Bill, impatiently interrupting them, “let's get our rake off, an' den you kin buck to yer chum after.”
Mortimer yielded to the tattered one's command, for without his guidance he never would be able to find the man that held the money.
“I'll be back in a little while,” he said to young Porter; “don't go away.”
There was delay over the cashing in; being late, they found a line of Lauzanne men in front of them at the bookmaker's stand.
When Mortimer returned to the lawn with eleven hundred dollars in his pocket Alan Porter had gone. He had dreaded that perhaps the boy might do something desperate, fearing discovery of the theft; he had thought even of taking Alan back to Brookfield with him; however, he had told him that the money would be replaced, the boy would understand that nothing could happen him and would go back, Mortimer felt sure. He spent a short time searching for Alan, but his former fruitless quest had shown him the hopelessness of trying to find a person in that immense throng. He thought kindly of the enveloping mob that had kept him hidden from Allis, as he thought. He had feared to meet her--something in his presence might cause her to suspect that something was wrong. The whole episode was like a fairy dream. It was a queer twist of Fate's web, his winning enough over Lauzanne--he, a man who had never betted in his life--to replace the money the brother had stolen.