Bobby, as she said, "fished" for this invitation and got it while the
girls were dressing in the gym. building, before the try-out work on the
field that Saturday afternoon. Eve went to her broad jump, while Bobby
lined up with a lot of the would-be sprinters from all four classes, to
try their speed from the fifty-yard dash up to the quarter-mile.
Only the very best of the candidates were allowed to try the longer
races, and they had all to go to Dr. Agnew's office first. The doctor
spent the most of every Saturday afternoon at the gym. building, and he
doled out good advice to the girls while he prodded them, and listened
to their heart and lung action, and otherwise discovered if they were
"fit."
Laura had been delegated by Mrs. Case to watch the sprinters, and most
of them were quickly sent to the courts to play tennis, or basketball,
or some other game, and the cinder track was soon devoted to those only
who were earnestly endeavoring to develop their speed as runners--and
who had some small chance, at least, to make a good record.
Bobby tried the first short dash, and then the third. There was some
crowding on the track and she could not do her best--nor did she wish
to. As long as she made a good enough showing to be advised to wait for
the finals, she was content, and so was Laura.
"Hold yourself in," advised Mother Wit, smiling on her. "If you spend
your best wind trying to beat these others at first you'll be lost when
it comes to the quarter-mile, and be retired."
So Bobby bided her time until the quarter-mile was called. There were
but six contestants. It was the longest trial of speed that Mrs. Case
would allow on the track. The Girls' Branch Athletic League gave but a
doubtful approval, at most, to the quarter-mile trial.
The six were "set" on the line and Laura, watch in hand, waited for the
arrow to touch the mark, her hand raised.
"Go!" she shouted, and the girls sprang away, each doing her very best
from the start. For the quarter-mile run leaves little space for
jockeying. It is soon over, and the contestant who gets off ahead is
quite frequently the winner.
The six girls were not so unevenly matched; and they started well on a
line. For the first few yards they kept together.
But then the pace began to tell. For fifty yards, say, they were matched
to a degree; then it was plain that only two of them had the "sand" to
keep up that killing pace for long.
Bobby and one other forged ahead. Breast to breast, their arms working
in unison, their stride equal, the two girls passed ahead of the others
and shot along the track with unabated swiftness.
The girls behind were panting, and falling back. One wavered and dropped
out entirely when she had run but a furlong. The others clung to the
track, however, doing their very best to record a fair time, at least.
They had learned under Mrs. Case to play the game out, no matter how
badly they seemed to be beaten.
Bobby and the girl with her felt the strain growing, however. Unless the
runner is experienced, the dogged perseverance of a close opponent is
likely to rattle one at the last moment. As the two came down the
stretch and the watching girls began to cheer and "root" for their
favorite contestant, the runners felt their nerve going.
A misstep now would cause the loss of the race to one, or to the other.
Bobby tried not to see the girls along the track, or to think of the one
pounding away beside her.
She was breathing with comparative ease herself; but the sound of the
other girl's breathing pumped in her ears, louder and louder! And how
loudly her footbeats were, too!
Could she only get away from those sounds--leave them behind her--clear
the rushing air about her of those noises!
There was the line stretched across the track. She knew it was there
because Laura stood with it in her hand. If she could only breast that
ribbon first!
Somewhere--it seemed to be a cry from the air right over her head--a
shrill voice kept repeating:
"Come on! Come on, Bobs!"
And Bobby called up that reserve strength that Mrs. Case had talked so
much about in her little lectures to the girls, and sprang ahead of her
rival. She was unconscious of the fact that she was ahead. It seemed to
her that the other girl was still clinging to her. She could hear the
footsteps and the heavy breathing.
But suddenly she was aware that it was her own feet spurning the cinders
that she heard--and her own breathing. She was winning!
And then the tape snapped across her chest and Jess and Eve Sitz, who
had run over to watch the finish of the race, caught her in their arms.
"Splendid! Bully for you, Bobs!" cried Jess. "Why, there isn't any other
quarter-mile runner in Central High. You take the palm!"
And not until then did Bob understand that the girl she thought she had
run so closely was a hallucination. The second runner was yards behind
her at the finish!
They bore Bobby into the gym. building and Mrs. Case insisted upon Dr.
Agnew's seeing her again almost immediately. The physician was still in
the building, and he came when called. The physical instructor was
examining the time card Laura and her assistants had made out. She would
not divulge their time to the runners, and the time keepers were sworn
to secrecy; but everybody knew that Bobby Hargrew had made a good
showing.
"There's nothing the matter with that little girl," said the doctor,
confidently. "Only, these sudden strains are not valuable. Yes, once, by
the way, is all right. As long as one does not go beyond that reserve
strength that your instructor harps upon," and he laughed.
Bobby was naturally proud over her achievement, for she knew that she
had run a very fast quarter. She was only sorry that she could not know
herself just how fast she was. But that was a secret Mrs. Case kept from
her.
"The worst possible thing for a runner in training to know is how fast,
or how slow, he is," she often declared, "Do your best each time; that
is your business."
So Bobby got into her street clothes and, having telephoned to her
father as she had promised Eve Sitz, she ran home to pack her bag. On
the way she passed by the house where Miss Carrington boarded. Gee Gee
had two rooms in a wing of the old Boyce house, in which the Widow Boyce
kept lodgers. Her front room had long, French windows which swung
outward like doors upon the porch. And as Bobby ran by she saw a man
come down from this porch, as though he had been listening at the
windows, and hurry around the corner of the house and behind the thick
hedge of the kitchen garden.
"That was the Gypsy--Jim Varey," Bobby thought, hesitating before the
house. "What is he haunting Gee Gee for? Ought she to know that he is
hanging around?"
But the girl hesitated about going in and speaking to the teacher. Gee
Gee, she considered, was really her arch-enemy. Why should she try to
shield her from any trouble? And, too, Miss Carrington might not thank
her for interfering in her private affairs.
So Bobby ran on home and told Mrs. Ballister where she was going,
huddled a few things into her bag, kissed "the kids," as she termed her
sisters, and ran off for the station, there to meet Eve for the 5:14
train to Keyport.
And while she waited who should appear but that black-faced man with the
gold hoops in his ears--Jim Varey!
The Gypsy saw her--Bobby knew he did. But he paid her no attention,
slinking into the men's room and not appearing again until Eve arrived
and the two girls went aboard the train. Then Bobby saw him once more.
"Do you see that fellow, Eve?" she demanded, whispering into the bigger
girl's ear.
"What fellow?"
"There! he's gone," said Bobby, with a sigh. "I feared he was following
us."
"Whom do you mean?" queried Eve, rather surprised by her manner.
"Jim Varey, the Gypsy."
"Why! is he about?" asked Eve. "You mean the husband of Queen Grace?
Well, he's a bad egg, he is! I hope he won't dog us to the house, for he
might learn then where that poor girl is hiding."
When they were in the car Bobby stuck her head out of the window to look
along the platform. She did not see Jim Varey in the crowd; but she
might better have kept in her head--for he saw her.