Part 11 (1/2)
CHAPTER XI
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 Sat.u.r.day, 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.”