AN INCENTIVE TO WIN.
Paul Pierson had made a discovery that night, and, before he left, he
told Frank Merriwell to put himself into condition to enter one of the
races at the Madison Square Garden tournament in New York.
"You seem to be in pretty good condition now," he said, with a grim
smile; "but you know whether you can improve your condition or not. If
you can, do it, for you are liable to be pitted against men who will
give you a decidedly hotter time than you have ever struck."
"All right," said Frank, quietly. "You'll find that I shall be in shape,
and I'll do my best to be a credit to Old Yale."
"You have been a credit to Yale ever since the day you entered college,"
said Pierson, sincerely. "To-night has settled one thing in my mind. I
believe you are a wonder in almost anything in the way of athletics."
"Oh, not a wonder!" said Frank. "But you can be sure that I am bound to
do my level best in anything I attempt."
"I know it! I am not sure I'll be able to get you on, but I am going to
try to run you into the one-mile race. We have some men for the shorter
dashes, but do not seem to have but one man besides yourself who can be
considered for the mile run. He has been in training for some time, and
the committee had nearly decided on him. Now I am satisfied that you are
the better man, but I'll have to satisfy the others."
"I want you to bear witness that I have not worked to fill the place of
any other fellow."
"It might be better for Yale if you would work for such things," growled
Pierson. "You will not find other fellows holding back. If any chap is
capable of filling your place at anything, you may be sure he will fill
it, and he'll never stop to consider your feelings about the matter."
"That is rust jite--I mean just right!" cried Rattleton, approvingly.
"Well, I am going to my rooms and take a rub down," said Paul.
"Good-night, fellows."
"Good-night, Mr. Pierson."
When the door had closed behind Paul, Rattleton executed a grotesque
dance on the carpet.
"Whoop!" he softly cried. "Didn't I knock him silly when I pretended not
to know anything about the run this evening! Oh, wheejiz--er, jeewhiz!
he nearly fainted when I told him you calmly walked into the room, took
a sponge bath, put on another suit, and then we had been telling
stories."
"You rascal!" cried Frank, laughing and giving Harry a shake. "That was
all your own work. I didn't know you were thinking of running such a
bluff on him."
"Never thought of it myself till he came in," chuckled Harry. "Between
us we managed to get you out of your other clothes, give you a quick
rub, and jump you into a fresh suit before Pierson showed up."
"It has been a very enjoyable evening," smiled Frank, as he again
deposited himself on the easy-chair. "If I had planned to have sport
with Pierson, I could not have worked it better. You should have heard
me panting and puffing along behind him on our way out! You should have
heard him bidding me good-by when we started to come back! And then you
should have heard me asking him if he was ill when I got ready to leave
him!"
Harry laughed in the heartiest manner, as his imagination supplied the
picture.
"It is too good!" he cried. "And you will go into the mile run sure!
Browning caused Pierson to tackle you."
"It seems that I have done pretty well in athletic matters this spring,"
said Frank, "and I was rather indifferent concerning the matter of
taking any prominent part in the tournament at Madison Square. However,
if I can do anything to uphold the standard of Old Eli, I want to do my
best."
"Frank, if you run in that race, you will win," came soberly from
Harry's lips. "I shall stake every dollar I can rake on you. If you do
win, I'll have enough cash to take me through the summer vacation we
have planned."
The door had been softly opened, and the most of Rattleton's speech was
overheard by a third person, who now exclaimed:
"And I'm going to bank my cash on you, Merriwell! If you win,
I'll--I'll--why, hang me! I'll make that trip across the continent with
you!"
It was Bruce Browning, who advanced into the room.
"Are you in earnest about that, Bruce?" asked Frank.
"You bet I am in earnest!" was the assurance.
"You will try to pump a bicycle from New York to San Francisco?"
"Try it! Confound it! I tell you I'll do it if you win the mile run for
Old Yale!"
"Then," said Frank, "I have a double object to work for, and I am going
to win if it is in my body to do so!"
Rattleton was astonished to see Browning show so much animation.
"Why, you actually appear like your old self!" he exclaimed.
Bruce sat down.
"Tell me about it," he invited, speaking to Frank. "Some of the fellows
said they saw you and Pierson chasing yourselves, and I caught what
Rattleton was saying just as I came in."
Frank told Bruce all about the night run, and a lazy smile spread over
the fat lad's round face as he listened.
"That's one on Pierson!" he exclaimed. "He thinks he is unequalled when
it comes to a long-distance run, and I'll wager something that you have
fixed him so he will fight to get you into that race. I can see him
bidding you farewell! Ha! ha! ha! And then I can see him when you took
your turn! Ha! ha! ha!"
Bruce laughed in a hearty manner, and, for some time they talked over
the events of the evening.
"What sort of a fellow is Yates?" asked Frank. "I've never met him to
have a talk with him."
"Oh, he isn't half bad," answered Bruce, in a somewhat noncommittal
manner.
"I presume he will feel injured if I am chosen to run, instead of him?"
"What if he does? That's none of your business."