ON THE GREEN CAMPUS
A group of merry boys and girls, after school hours, had gathered on the
campus, and were chatting at a lively rate. This was a week after Fred
and his two companions had gone over the course that previous Saturday,
to judge of the difficulties they were likely to encounter when the great
race came off.
Preparations had gone steadily on, and the time that must elapse before
the Marathon was run could be measured in days. The greatest excitement
reigned among the young people of Riverport, and it was said that both
the neighboring towns were worked up to fever-heat on account of the
prospective race.
Mechanicsburg welcomed another chance to even the score, which had too
often been in favor of her closest rival, and even Paulding boasted that
long distance running might be called her "best hold," since she had
several lads who were apt to prove wonders at that game.
On the whole, such intense interest had never before been aroused in
school circles in the three rival towns. Hundreds could hardly wait for
the day to come when, in the presence of unequaled crowds, the question
of supremacy would be decided once for all.
There was Flo Temple, a very pretty, attractive girl, whom Fred always
took to dances, and skated with on the river; her chum Cissie Anderson, a
little addicted to slang, though witty, and "fetching," as Sid Wells was
heard to admit many a time, even when she had rubbed it into him pretty
hard; and last, but not least, that energetic sister of Sid's, Mame
Wells, a girl who could play almost any game that boys did, and fairly
well at that.
The girls seemed to be having no end of fun about something or other, and
the crowd laughed at their sallies. Even the victims themselves, took it
goodnaturedly, knowing that it was all in good sport.
"The chosen few who are going to do the honors for Riverport in this
wonderful race!" Cissie was saying, with a look of pretended concern on
her pink and white face. "Don't we pity them, though, girls? They say
they're at the training table now, and have to give up pies, and all
sorts of other good things. Look at their faces, and see what a
woebegone expression has settled there. Every time I glimpse at Sid and
Fred, I have to think of a funeral, or a famine."
"Yes, it must be a dreadful thing to have to actually starve yourself,
and all for the sake of getting in what they call condition," Mame Wells
remarked. "Why, for the first time in all his life, Sid has to get up
from the table before the dessert comes on. He says he just couldn't
stand for it to stay, and see us all enjoying ourselves while he's shut
out. Poor boy, I wish it was over for his sake."
"Why, they'll all be like walking skeletons if this keeps on much
longer," Flo Temple, the doctor's daughter, broke in with. "I even told
Fred he'd have to walk with a heavy cane, like an old man, before long,
and I offered him one of father's, but he must have felt ashamed to take
it, though I just know he wanted to."
"Oh! well," observed Corney Shay, slyly, "a heavy stick like that is a
mighty nice thing to have along with you, when you're coming home awful
late at night," and of course that caused a great laugh, as well as the
blushes to flash up in the cheeks of pretty Flo.
"But don't any of you try to pity us, and think we're suffering for want
of a decent meal," Fred told them. "Training table simply means that
you've got to drop pastry, and all such silly things as that. We eat
beefsteak and chops and eggs just as much as we want to, most vegetables,
fish and fruits, and even plain cake. Why, it's the finest thing a boy
can do, to try training for a month, and every fellow would be better off
for doing it."
"Then the daily runs we take, and the other exercise in the bargain,"
added Sid, "is making our flesh as hard as nails. Just feel that muscle,
will you?" and he flexed his arm as he held it out toward the gray-eyed
Cissie, who of course, after duly feeling of it, gave Sid a sly pinch
that made him jump.
Everybody knew that Fred and Flo were good chums, and were nearly always
together. It was that very fact that had made Buck Lemington dislike
Fred so much in the beginning. Buck had aspirations in that quarter
himself, and there had been a time, before the other boy came to town,
that he acted as escort to the doctor's pretty daughter, when they were
all much younger than now.
"I hear that the course has all been laid out at last," remarked a small
but lively high school boy, a cousin of Colon. He really had a first
name, though most people seemed to have forgotten to say "Harrison," for
everywhere he went by the appellation of Semi-Colon, as compared with the
lengthy one.
"We were told the same thing," Flo ventured to say, "but twenty-five
miles seems a terribly long way to run. My father is to examine every
applicant, because they say it would be dangerous for any boy not in the
best of condition to start out, and undergo the strain that a long race
causes. So if any of you has a weak heart I'm sorry for you."
"Don't waste your pity on Fred, then, Flo," said Cissie, "because you
ought to know his heart's all right. Besides, we've seen him put to the
test, and feel sure he'll do good old Riverport High credit. So will
they all. There isn't a girl in town but firmly believes the race is
bound to come to our school," and she gave Sid an arch look that caused
him to nod his head in delight.
"One thing sure," said Fred, gallantly, "every fellow is bound to make
the greatest effort of his life, after learning how the Riverport girls
have faith in him. I can speak for myself and Sid here, as well as
Bradley Morton and Colon, who are absent. If we all fail to land the
prize, it'll be because there are better long distance runners in the
other towns, and not on account of our flunking."
"They say that to-morrow the four who have been selected to be Riverport
entries expect to make the run from start to finish, just to get
acquainted with the course, and time themselves; is that so, Fred?" asked
Mame, who undoubtedly sincerely mourned the fact, as she had often done
before, that she was a girl, and hence debarred from all these glorious
times.
"Yes, we expect to do something like that, if the weather allows," Fred
admitted, "but of course time isn't going to cut much of a figure in it
with us. We'll leave all that to the big day, and content ourselves by
getting familiar with the lay of the land, finding out all the bad
places, and figuring how best to save a minute here or half of one there.
That's what is going to count in the final reckoning, the chances are."
"Yes, and it stands for the Fred Fenton type of highest strategy," said
Sid, who could praise a friend without feeling the slightest touch of
envy. "Being prepared means a heap, in war or in sporting matters.
That's one reason we're dieting right now, so as to put ourselves in the
finest possible physical condition."
"And lots of people just think when there's a Marathon race like this,"
ventured little Semi-Colon, "that a pack of crazy boys just strip to
their running togs and start pell mell across country without a particle
of system whatever. It's all wrong, because every move is mapped out
beforehand by the wise ones. They know just what they can do in the way
of speed, and how much reserve they're holding back against the rush over
the home stretch. That last is where the agony always comes in,
'specially if the race is a close one. Many a fellow's been known to
just crawl under the tape, too weak to stand up, yet wild to win."
"Well, let's hope nothing like that happens in our Marathon," said Mame,
with a solicitous look toward her handsome brother, of whom she was very
fond.
"Oh! well," Sid hastened to explain, to allay her fears, "this is only a
boys' run, you know; when regular athletes compete they set a faster pace
than any of us can show; and then the distance is generally much further
than twenty-five miles."
"Here comes Colon now," remarked Cissie, who often tormented the tall
athlete with her witty remarks.
"He looks more mysterious than ever," remarked Mame Wells, "and I
shouldn't be surprised now if Colon were hatching up some bright game for
that glorious day of the long race. Not that he'd play any trick that
wasn't honest, but you all know how he likes to pretend to be beaten
until close to the end, and then fairly fly ahead of every competitor."
"Colon is going to make Riverport proud of him, you mark my words," said
Fred, lowering his voice, for the object of their conversation was now
close by, and covering ground at a tremendous pace with those long legs
of his, which some of the boys had often compared to a pair of
architect's dividers.
"Hello, everybody!" Colon called out, as he came up. Then, crooking his
finger toward Fred, he went on to say, "Would you mind stepping aside,
Fred, and giving me just a minute or two? Something important, or I
wouldn't bother you."
Of course the group of boys and girls laughed, and called them a pair of
conspirators, planning some sly game whereby victory might perch on the
purple and gold banner of Riverport High.
"What's up, Colon?" asked Fred, as soon as they were beyond earshot of
the noisy crowd, for he saw that the tall fellow looked quite serious
indeed.
"Remember what we said about that Corny Ludson, don't you, Fred?"
"Why, yes, we concluded to let matters rest, and wait to see if anything
new would turn up," replied the other, "but why do you say that, Colon?"
"Oh! because Corny's shown up in Riverport again, and it might mean he's
got another sly robbery in view," Colon calmly remarked.