THE BROKEN MARATHON
"Cheers! Joy! Also thrills!" called Lalia, from her lookout on top of
a big green rock. "There come the boys! See their red shirts!"
"Oh, yes," agreed her sister, almost pushing her off the big bowlder in
an attempt to get the desired view. "Sure enough. Come on, girls.
Slide down the rocks on that side and we'll just about meet their line!
Oh! there's Bob Bennet, I know his red head; and Andy MacMurry, I know
his biplane arms. See them swing!" and Lucille all but lost her
balance on the steep down grade, in her attempt to imitate the
dauntless Andy, who was just then making famous strides toward the golf
links, in the last lap of the Academic Cross Country run.
Along the line of contestants for honors were five boys in all,
representing the survival of the fittest in the Spring Sporting Event.
Two red shirts were easily distinguishable, as representing the home
team, and as these were none other than Bob Bennet and Andy MacMurry
mentioned by Lucille, the girls' interest immediately centered in the
flying red specks, moving along the great, green golf links like some
animated brightly painted automatons. Heads back, chests out, feet
scarcely seeming to move, the two red figures were keeping well up with
those in gray, and the others in yellow.
"Andy's winning!" shouted Grace, who had quickly made distant
acquaintance with the lightsome runner.
"No, it's Bob!" insisted Lucille. "See his red head like a torch
bearer?"
"I think Grace is right," corrected Lalia. "That's Andy--see the arms
swing!"
"If we could only get over to the club house to see the finish,"
suggested Lucille. "Oh, there are the Morgans in their car! They will
give us a lift. Come on, girls, we can get to the avenue before they
pass down," and giving an extra spurt to their already overstrained
runners, the girls vied with the real contestants in the honors of
marathon.
No need to ask for the lift in the Morgan car, for it seemed all
Bellaire was making for the club house to see the finish of the Cross
Country Run, and the girls piled on the big car exactly as girls do,
when coming and going, to and from the ocean, in the height of bathing
season.
"If our boys only hold out!" breathed Lalia. "We'll have the loveliest
time at the club house, all our crowd are invited, and we may take our
guests, of course," indicating the three visitors who were quite as
eagerly interested in the race as were the local members of the party.
"We are starting pretty well," remarked Cleo, holding tightly to her
support on the side of the auto. "We didn't expect to fall into a race
first day!"
"Oh, vacation is always one grand frolic out here," responded Lucille,
"and we always like to make a good start. Here we are," as the car
followed the long line of autos threading their way in to the driveway,
leading to the big, crowded club house on the emerald golf links.
By this time the runners were almost on their last lap, and cheering
and shouting made the air vibrant with the joy of youth and the glory
of healthful sport.
"Andy! Andy! Come on, Andy!" yelled the crowd.
"At-a-boy! At-a-boy!" came the shouts of youngsters who seemed to be
suspended in the air, hanging on to everything they could grasp, with
reckless risk to life and limb.
The club house orchestra had stopped its entertaining tunes, for guests
cared no more for music, the scholaristic runs being of more than usual
importance in deciding the season's championship.
"Bob! Go it, Bob!" went up a newly invigorated yell, as the runners
turned from the broad field into a narrow stretch, that was outlined by
the "tape" or finishing line.
"Oh!" screamed Cleo suddenly. "Look! That girl is directly in the
way!" and just as she spoke the figure of a girl was seen to dart from
somewhere directly into the first runner's path. She had raised her
slim arms as if to stop him, and in the surprise of her sudden
appearance Andy, who was well in the lead, stopped, staggered and then
toppled over in a heap!
Instantly everything was in wild confusion. The crowds closed in
around the finishing runners, so that from the cars or club house it
was impossible to see more than a solid mass of persons.
"Is he dead?" boys were asking.
"Who was the ghost?" demanded others.
"She ought to be shot," insisted some of the academy boys.
"It was bad enough, to be on the last lap, but to have a ghost shoot
out like that would finish any fellow's heart," declared the boy at
Cleo's ear. "I hope they teach her a lesson."
"Grace!" Madaline exclaimed. "Did you see that dress? It was the same
we saw on the queer girl who stared at us so! Maybe--she's crazy or
something. I'm sure I could tell that was the same white dress with
the black winders."
"Yes," declared Cleo to the other girls, "we saw her yesterday, and she
was with the oddest-looking woman."
"Oh, I'll bet she's the girl they call Mary! Lives somewhere in the
mountain, and has that funny old woman with her!" declared Lucille.
"If she isn't crazy she's very queer. And however did she get in that
line without being seen?"
"Why, she just jumped from behind the hedge," said Angela Morgan, who
was driving the car slowly out of the heavy traffic, "and I have seen
her with that foreign woman down by the springs, always hunting
flowers. They are a queer pair."
"Do you think the crowd will be rough with her?" asked Cleo anxiously.
"I never saw such eyes as that child looked out of. Like eyes that
looked and couldn't see, sort of dazed," explained Cleo.
"Well, we can't hear who won or what happened until some of the crowd
passes out," said Lalia, "If Bob or Andy didn't win I'll be just sick
in bed."
"And if anything happened to that queer little girl I'll have more than
a mere collapse," added Madaline, who had been almost a silent
spectator of the whole proceedings.
Just then there was a break in the line of cars, and directly in front
of the Morgan machine dashed the little girl in her white dress, her
two big braids flopping up and down on her slight shoulders.
And before anyone could reach the roadway, she had again slipped behind
the dense hedge and was lost to view.
"Well, I never!" gasped Cleo.
"We'll have to find that woodland fairy some day," declared Lucille,
and just then they heard that Bob had won the race.