have," promised Bob. "Say, Frank, I was coming to tell you I've just done a
big thing, Dean Ritchie says."

"What is it, Bob?"

"You know we are going to have a baseball game and some other matches to-
morrow."

"Yes, I know," nodded Frank.

"Well, there's a foot race scheduled. The crack runner of our crowd,
Purtelle, is out of trim, and they were looking for a substitute. I don't
want to brag, but about the one thing in the athletic line I can do well is
running."

"Then you must try to fill the bill."

"I'm going to. Ritchie asked me to give them a test. It's a long-distance
spurt--twice around the track over in the meadow where they train their
horses on the stock farm. I made the sample run just now. I don't know but
what the crowd were guying me, but they seemed to go wild over it."

"Oh, I guess they're in earnest, Bob."

"I hope so, for that big bully, Banbury, is to be my opponent, and I'd do
anything to take the conceit out of him and his crowd. Ritchie timed me,
and said I had discounted the best record ever made by an academy runner."

"That's grand," said Frank.