Wallace Random came around and congratulated Browning.
"You did a good job," he said, "and we'll have to take revenge off some
of your friends. Don't think for a moment that we mean to let you Yale
fellows carry off all the honors."
Benson came up and asked to be introduced. He proved to be a very
pleasant fellow, and took his defeat gracefully.
"I did my best," he declared. "I couldn't beat it if I were to try a
week. You won fairly."
This frank and generous spirit greatly impressed Merriwell and his
friends.
Browning exerted himself again in the hammer-throwing contest, and won
by a good margin.
"Keep it up, fellows," laughed Frank. "It strikes me that the Combine is
bound to make a path of glory on its way East."
But they were not to win at everything, as they soon discovered.
Barney Mulloy was a great jumper, but there was a youth from Mariposa
who could jump. His name was Lundy, and he beat the Irish boy with such
ease that Barney was quite crestfallen.
"Begorra! it's wings he has somewhere about him!" declared Barney.
Then came the pole vaulting, and Preston, of Santa Barbara won, although
Jack Diamond was a close second.
"I told you!" laughed Wallace Random, speaking to Frank. "You chaps are
doing great work, but we have some good men right here."
"That's right," agreed Merriwell, cheerfully. "You are right in it, and
that's a fact."
Then came the bicycle race.
Rattleton did his best, but again a Santa Barbara man won.
Then there was wrestling and other contests in which the Yale Combine
was not concerned.
At last the hundred yards' dash was called.
The competitors appeared from the dressing tent and were greeted with
cheers. Wallace Random was given a hearty reception.
There were five starters. They were Merriwell, of Yale; Random, of Santa
Barbara; Black, of San Francisco; Cheston, of Yuma, and Harper, of San
Bernardino.
The word came, and the starter's pistol cracked.
Away leaped the runners like greyhounds.
A cheer went up from the spectators.
Wallace Random was a great starter, and he leaped to the front at the
first bound.
Merriwell and Black were paired, while Creston got off next, and Harper
was last.
Frank knew how much there was in the start of a short dash, and he felt
that Random had obtained an advantage; but that made no difference with
him, for he was there to do his best.
For a third of the distance no one obtained much of a lead. Then Random
began to pull away.
But he could not get away from Merriwell, who clung to him like a leech,
not more than two yards separating them.
It was soon seen that the race lay between Random and Merriwell, with
Random apparently having the best of it.
Two-thirds the distance was covered, and still Random held his
advantage.
Then a genuine Yale yell came from Frank's friends, who had gathered in
a group near the finishing point.
That cheer seemed to act like an electric spur on Merriwell. Half the
distance between him and Random was closed quickly, and then with a leap
he was at the side of the Santa Barbara man.
A single moment they hung thus, and then, as the tape was approached,
Frank shot to the front, and was a winner by about two feet.
"'Rah! 'rah! 'rah! Yale!"
Wallace Random was greatly chagrined, for he had felt certain of that
race when it was almost finished. Then, in an astonishing manner, Frank
Merriwell had reached his side, passed him, and won the dash.
Effie Random said nothing, but she thrust her parasol into the ground
with a wrench that broke it.
Frank was cheered and congratulated.
As soon as he could recover from his surprise and disappointment, Random
shook Frank's hand.
"You did the trick," he said; "but I'll beat you at the hurdle race. I
see you are strong on the finish, and I'll be looking out for you."
"All right," smiled Frank. "If you win that race, we'll break even, but
I shall do my best."
Frank noticed that Hodge was not with those who crowded about to
congratulate him. He looked for Bart, whom he discovered talking with
Effie, and he saw Effie was speaking in an excited manner, a flush on
her face.
Frank smiled.
"It looks as if she really wished to see me defeated. I wonder what she
is saying to Hodge."
He could see Bart shaking his head, while Effie seemed to be urging him
to do something. The more Bart shook his head the more determined the
girl became.
Frank was able to watch them but a moment, as his friends demanded his
attention.
"Hang me if I didn't know ye'd do it all ther time!" said Ephraim
Gallup, proudly. "You're ther same old hustler yeou useter be when yeou
was at Fardale."
"Thot's roight, me b'y!" said Barney Mulloy. "It's a pache ye alwus wur,
Frankie."
"Yaw," agreed Hans; "you vos a chim dandy, Vrankie!"
The hurdle race was the concluding event of the tournament.
There were other contests and amusements to occupy the time between the
dash and the hurdle race.
At last the hurdle race was called.
Then Frank was surprised to find Bart Hodge had entered for the race and
was ready to run.
"Hello!" he exclaimed. "Isn't this a new idea of yours?"
"No," answered Bart. "I entered for this race yesterday."
"You did? That's queer! I knew nothing of it."
"I intended it for a surprise," said Hodge, with a forced laugh.
Frank was not at all pleased. As he was the president of the Combine, he
felt that Hodge had not done right in entering for the contest without
his knowledge.
At first he thought of refusing to let Bart race, but he quickly
banished such an inclination, knowing it might seem that he feared he
would be beaten by one of his own club.
"But we'll have a little understanding about this later on," he mentally
vowed.
Besides Bart, Frank and Wallace Random, there were three others who had
entered for the hurdle race. They were Perkins, of the Southern Union
Athletic Club, of Los Angeles; Keeler, of Ventaur, and a Mexican, Pablo
Salero, from some unknown place.
The Mexican was a little fellow, while the others were supple and
well-built lads.
"Ready, gentlemen!"
It was the voice of the starter.
The six contestants leaned forward, ready to dash away in a moment.
"One!"
Breathless silence.
"Two!"
In a moment they would be off.
"Three!"
Crack! sounded the pistol, and away they darted.
Again Random showed his qualities as a quick starter, but he did not get
away from Merriwell, who was equally as quick.
Straight at the first hurdle the six lads dashed. Side by side Merriwell
and Random sailed over it, with Hodge scarcely any in the rear.
The spectators cheered and waved hats, handkerchiefs and parasols.
As the third hurdle was cleared Hodge was neck-and-neck with Random and
Merriwell. At that moment it seemed as if the three were evenly matched.
Perkins was close behind them, and the Mexican had already fallen to the
rear.
Hodge was straining every nerve, and Merriwell was astonished to see him
make such a spurt.
"Can he keep it up?" thought Frank. "If so, he is the man I'll have to
work hard to beat."
Over the fourth hurdle they sailed, and then it was that Merriwell and
Hodge, still keeping side by side, took the lead, Random being passed,
although he was doing his level best.
But the strain was telling on Bart already. His face was drawn into an
expression of agony, and he knew he could not keep up that speed to the
finish.
As they cleared the fifth hurdle something happened. Hodge seemed to
strike the ground awkwardly, and he plunged against Merriwell.
Down both went.
When they scrambled up, Random was in the lead, and he had secured a
decided advantage--an advantage that it was not going to be easy to
overcome.
Frank was angry and excited. Like a deer he dashed after Wallace.
Still Hodge kept at his side, doing his utmost.
Six, seven, eight hurdles they cleared, and they were close at Random's
heels. Frank felt confident he would be able to win for all of his
unfortunate downfall.
"I can do it!" he told himself. "There is a wide space between the ninth
and tenth hurdles, and there is where I'll get ahead of Random."
Never in all his life had he felt more confident of winning any kind of
a contest.
When the ninth hurdle was reached Bart had fallen a trifle to the rear,
but he leaped nearly at the same moment with Merriwell.
Then a cry came from Bart as his foot struck and he was thrown forward
heavily upon his head.
He struck the ground with a sickening thud, and lay still.
In a moment Frank Merriwell stopped, all thought of winning the race
being banished from his mind. He was quickly kneeling beside the fallen
lad trying to discover how badly Bart was injured.
Hodge was unconscious, so Frank lifted him and bore him from the track,
while Wallace Random raced on and won over Perkins by a wide margin.
Bart was carried into the shade of a large tree, where a physician began
to work over him. The physician could not discover that any bones were
broken, and he believed Hodge had been stunned by the fall.
This proved true, for Bart was restored to consciousness after a short
time, and the first person he saw was Frank close at his side, watching
him with the greatest anxiety.
Bart reached out and grasped Merry's hand, saying feebly:
"It was an accident, old fellow--I swear it was! Don't think I tried to
make you lose the race! No one could induce me to do that, no matter how
much they begged me to, Frank! You do not think I did it purposely, do
you?"
"No," said Frank, "I do not think so, Bart."
"I am glad!" whispered Hodge, thankfully.
Soon the tournament was over, and Santa Barbara was well satisfied,
having carried off her share of the honors.
That night there was another hop at the most fashionable hotel of the
town.
Frank appeared rather late, and from a place where he could not be seen
himself, he watched the dancers.
He was surprised to discover that Inza was not dancing, although she was
present. As he watched he saw her refuse several who asked her to dance.
Lord Stanford was given the cold shoulder in a very decisive manner, but
there were numberless other girls who were more than glad to dance with
him.
He entered the room intending to grasp an opportunity to speak with her.
The moment he appeared Inza retreated toward the other end of the room.
He followed hastily, and, catching up with her, said:
"Inza, please do not act in this manner. I have an apology to make."
He passed his hand through her arm, and they went out on the veranda.
The moon was over the mountains again, and its silver light glinted the
waves of the sea.
Frank and Inza paused in the shadow of the vines. For some moments he
did not speak, and then, his voice quivering, he talked long and
earnestly. What he said is neither here nor there. He had an apology to
make, and he made it in a manly way. He acknowledged his mistake and
freely expressed his contrition.
Inza heard him in silence to the end, then she burst into tears. In a
moment both of Frank's arms were about her, and she was sobbing with her
head against his breast.
The following morning Bart Hodge, who had appeared greatly troubled
since the race, sought out Frank.
"I want to ask you a question," he said, earnestly. "Do you think I
tried to keep you from winning that race, Frank?"
"Not much, Bart," replied Merry, cordially. "I know you better than
that. But----"
"Yes?"
"Perhaps you were asked to."
Hodge flushed.
"We won't say any more," continued Frank, grasping his companion's hand.
"Let it be buried in the past. I have been a fool, and I deserve all I
got. Here comes the rest of the fellows. We'll talk over our next move
with the Combination."