continued exertion and heels began to feel as though pounded to pulp
from the violence with which they marked the accent.

But never a word of complaint did anyone breathe. They gloried in their
discomfort. For this hot dusty road over which they toiled and perspired
so was the road to glory, the avenue down which the girls of Oakwood,
led by the Winnebagos, would march to triumph over their sworn rivals,
the Hillsdale-ites.

Agony had gone through the town and picked out the most promising girls,
whom, with the addition of the Winnebagos, she formed into a company.
They drilled for an hour every morning with Miss Raper in the wide dirt
road that ran along the foot of the hill behind Carver House.

The hour drew to a close with a final strenuous series of left and right
wheels and the Winnebagos sought the shade of the trees along the
roadside and fanned themselves with leaves.

"How did we do to-day, Miss Raper?" inquired Agony, as the drill
sergeant prepared to depart.

"I congratulate you," replied Miss Raper with sarcastic wit. "I never
saw it done worse."

The company recognized the fact that it was a tactical error to try to
draw any praises to themselves from Miss Raper. Yet they did not
consider themselves abused, nor did they harbor any hard feelings toward
her on account of her sharp tongue. They realized that she was a
"crackerjack" trainer, and for the sake of winning that contest they
were willing to endure her caustic comments meekly.