The spectators held their breath. Never had the boys of Bellwood School
witnessed so sensational a foot race.

Bob Upton flew like the wind. He was five--ten--twenty yards in the lead of
his laboring antagonist.

His face was colorless as he crossed the starting line. A flash of triumph
was in his eyes, but Frank saw that he was reeling. Our hero sprang forward
just in time to catch the falling champion in his outstretched arms--the
winner of the race.




CHAPTER XVII

THE TRAMP AGAIN


"He's in a dead faint--give him air," ordered Dean Ritchie.

"Get a dipper of water," said Frank quickly, letting Bob slip gently to the
grass.

There was a pump just beyond the enclosure. Ned ran to it, and soon Frank
was sponging Bob's face with cool water.

"Who did it--and why?" spoke Bob suddenly and opening his eyes and sitting
up.