you’d make a foul. Keep your elbows in, and run straight.”

Irving followed Barclay round and tried to grasp the significance of his
comments. Dennison came by at a trot.

“Longer stride, Dennison! Your running’s choppy! Lengthen out, lengthen
out! That’s better.—I have it!”

Barclay turned suddenly to Irving.

“What?”

“The thing for you to do. We’ll make you an official at the track games
next week. That will give you a standing at once—show everybody that you
are really a keen follower of sport—or want to be.”

“But what can I do? I suppose an official has to do something.”

“You can be starter. That will put you right in touch with the fellows
that are entered.”

“Would I have a revolver? I’ve never fired a gun off in my life.”

“Then it’s time you did. Of course you’ll have a revolver. And you’ll be
the noisiest, most important man on the field. That’s what you need to
make yourself; wake the fellows up to what you really are!—Now I must be
off to my football men; you’d better hang round here and pick up what
you can about running. And remember—you’re to act as starter.”

“If you’ll see me through.”