Part 26 (1/2)
”Oh! who is it?” cried Cissie Anderson shrilly, as she stood up, everyone being on tiptoe with excitement.
”Fred Fenton!” shouted Cornelius Shays, apparently taking it for granted that their favorite athlete would be the first to come in.
”No! no, it can't be Fred, because he was Number Six, and that seems more like a Seven!” another boy shouted; at which Flo Temple turned really pale with bitter disappointment, for she had hoped it would be Fred.
”Colon! Hurrah for Colon!” whooped several enthusiastic Riverport rooters.
”Look again, and perhaps you won't crow so loud!” the saucy girl from Mechanicsburg exclaimed, her eyes dancing with eagerness. ”I've got pretty good sight, and that looks like a Figure One to me. Besides, I ought to know how Billie Ackers runs, for he happens to be my own brother!”
The stranger in town had raised his field-gla.s.ses meanwhile, and he hastened to remark, turning sideways toward Flo Temple and Cissie:
”Yes, that is a Figure One, most a.s.suredly!”
As though the adherents of the up-river school had discovered this gratifying truth for themselves, wild cheers now began to be heard, coupled with the Mechanicsburg favorite school song, sung by a glee club that suddenly sprang into view, waving flags, and throwing up their hats in enthusiasm.
”It's the Mechanicsburg Wonder!”
”We told you he had their measure taken, didn't we?” shouted Sherley, the football quarterback.
Boom!
”Another runner has just turned the bend, and see him gaining on Ackers, would you? Why, what's this I see---that number looks like Eleven, and didn't Badger of the Pauldings carry that? Will you see him tearing off the s.p.a.ce on your tired-out Wonder? It's good-night to Ackers, Mechanicsburg!”
”That may be, but where do you fellows here in Riverport come in?”
shrilled the girl from up river whose brother was plainly being beaten.
Boom!
”Oh! there's a third runner in sight, and just see how he is tearing along like a scared wolf. We ought to know that style, Riverport, and n.o.body but Fred Fenton could show such terrific speed at the close of a twenty-five mile race. That's because he pays more attention to condition than speed!”
”Will he overtake the other runners before they get to the goal?”
shrieked an almost crazy rooter, as he stood on his seat, and waved both arms wildly again and again.
Thousands of anxious eyes watched the approaching figures of the three contestants. It was still an open question who would come in ahead. The Wonder was evidently at almost his last gasp, while Badger, the Paulding runner, could hardly be said to show much better form, for he too wobbled constantly from side to side, as though kept going only by sheer grit.
Fred, coming strong from the rear, was speedily overtaking them both.