FRED ON THE TRACK
Fred Fenton was in the throng that welcomed the victorious Colon. He had heard that remark of a Mechanicsburg lad about the plan arranged to wear Colon down by putting a fresh man in against him with the second sprint, this time for half a mile. And it set Fred thinking.
He had himself been entered for the second and third sprint; but because the five mile road race was of such vast importance, the track captain had prevailed upon Fred not to make either of the others, leaving them to the marvelous Colon to take care of.
Several more events were pulled off in rapid succession, showing how well organized the tournament seemed to be, in the hands of competent men. One of these happenings was a sack race, which afforded great amusement to the crowd, and gave Paulding her first score, to the uproarious delight of everybody.
"Paulding can crawl to victory, anyhow!" shouted the megaphone boy, derisively.
"That's better than crawling after getting licked!" answered a resolute backer of the town down the river, "that never gave up until the last man was down."
When the basket ball game of the girls, between Paulding and Mechanicsburg first, and then Riverport against the victor of the first round, was called, everybody sat up and took notice.
It was a spirited game, and Paulding girls proved themselves superior to those of the rival town, for they finally won. Then their team was patched up with a couple to replace those who were tired out; after which they started to show Riverport what they knew about basketball.
And sure enough, in the end they did carry the Paulding colors to victory; though it was a close decision; and if the balance of the home team could have shown the same class that little Mame Wells put into her playing, it would have been a walkover for Riverport.
Colon came to the scratch, smiling and confident, when the half mile run over the track was called. So did that fellow up the river, who had always been such a hard player to down, when Riverport tackled her rival in baseball, or on the gridiron—Felix Wagner, the best all-round athlete of which Mechanicsburg boasted.
It was seen that Colon did not mean to follow the same tactics in this sprint of the half mile. He knew that he was up against a different sort of man now, than in the first event of his class. And when the three competitors passed for the third time the grandstand, they were pretty evenly bunched, each jealously watching lest one of the others get an advantage.
Amid a din of cheering they reached the other end of the track, all going strong.
"Now watch Colon hump himself!" shouted the megaphone boy.
"There he goes! Ain't he the kangaroo though?" bawled another.
"But keep your eye on Wagner, will you? He's flying like the wind. Better believe your wonder will have to do his prettiest right now, with that hurricane at his heels. Go it, Felix; you can win it! Wagner! Wagner! He's going to do it! Hoop-la! Me-chan-icsburg forever!"
Wagner was coming like a bird, and his flying feet seemed hardly to touch the ground. The Paulding contestant appeared to be so far outclassed that some people imagined he must be almost standing still; but he was doing his best, poor fellow.
Apparently Colon heard the sound of Wagner close at his shoulder as the other made a last spurt, meaning to pass him. Colon had just one more "kink" to let loose, and as he did so he bounded ahead, passing the string some five feet in front of the second entry.
The roar of cheers that arose suddenly died out.
"Look at Colon! Something happened to him! That last spurt must have ruptured a blood vessel! That settles the third race, because Wagner will have it easy!"
The marshal and his many assistants had some difficulty in keeping order while a crowd of athletes gathered around Colon, who had fallen headlong after breasting the tape, and lay there on the ground.
Presently the director appeared, and waved his hand for silence, remarking:
"I regret to say that the winner of the last half mile sprint sprained his ankle just as he clinched his victory, and will be utterly unable to take part in any other contest to-day. We are glad it is no more serious injury; and one and all extend to him our sympathy, as well as our admiration for the game fight he has put up!"
Brad Morton helped Colon to a seat, where he could have his swollen ankle properly attended to, and at the same time watch the progress of the tournament; for Colon stubbornly refused to let them take him home.
The face of the track captain was marked with uneasiness. Mechanicsburg was evidently in this thing to win, and meant to make every point count. Right then the two schools seemed to be moving along, neck and neck, each having seven points in their favor, with several events coming that were altogether uncertain.
Hence, that third half mile run over the track might eventually prove to be the turning point, upon which final victory or defeat would hinge.
With Colon, the unbeaten sprinter, down, who was there to take his place against that fleet-footed Wagner, who would be fairly recovered by the time the last sprint was called?
Rapidly did Brad run over in his mind his available entries, and putting each in competition with Wagner, he shook his head. Sid Wells could not be depended on to keep his head in a final pinch. He usually did well in the beginning of a hot race, but when there was a call for held-back energies, Sid could not "deliver the goods," as Brad knew.
Besides, there was Corney Shays, a speedy runner for short distances, but with poor wind. Half a mile was too much for Corney; had it been a quarter, now, Brad would have felt tempted to try him against Wagner.
He looked anxiously toward Fred, and the other smiled. An odd three-legged race was taking place at the time, each school having an entry; and amid uproarious shouts the contestants were falling down, getting mixed in their partners, and exciting all sorts of comments.
"I'm willing to make the try if you say so, Brad," Fred remarked, for he could easily read what was in the mind of the anxious Brad.
"If only I was sure that it wouldn't interfere with your work in the five mile run, I'd be tempted to let you go into it," the track captain declared; "but you know that short Marathon has been thought so important that it was given three points, to one for all other events. We've just got to win that, or we're gone. Do you really and truly think you could stand both, Fred?"
"I sure do," replied the other, confidently; "and besides, you can get the field judges to put the five mile off until the very last, so as to give me time to recover. Nobody can object to that."
"How about having the third sprint moved up in line; that would widen the gap between your two entries, Fred?" remarked Brad, the gloom beginning to leave his face, as he saw a way out of the trouble.
"Never do in the wide world," replied Fred; "because that would shorten Wagner's time for recovery after his last race. And lots of fellows would say it was done purposely to give us a winning chance. No, my plan is the better, Brad."
Other events were being run off in succession. The shot-put came to Riverport, Dave Hanshaw proving himself superior at this sort of game to any of those entered in competition. Jumping the hurdles went to the steady-pulling up-river town. And when the third sprint was called, once again were Mechanicsburg and Riverport tied for points.
When Fred toed the scratch alongside Felix Wagner and the new Paulding sprinter, he did not underestimate either of his antagonists. And after they were off like greyhounds let free from the leash, he adopted the tactics that had won so handily for Colon in the first race, lagging just behind the others, and observing how they ran, while making the circuit of the track three times.
Thus he knew to a fraction just what resources Wagner had left when the critical stage was reached for the final spurt. Felix was already beginning to feel his previous race. That heart-breaking finish against Colon had told on him more than he had expected it would. And Fred believed he would have no great difficulty in displacing him, when the time came.
On the way to the finish all of them increased their already fast pace, until they were fairly skimming along the level track as though they had wings. But Fred proved to have considerably more reserve powers than either of his competitors. Well had he gauged the distance; and when just about one hundred yards from the finish he was seen to pass both Wagner and the Paulding runner, coming in an easy winner, amid the terrific cheers of the excited throng, everybody being upon his or her feet, waving flags, hats, handkerchiefs, and shouting themselves fairly hoarse to indicate what they thought of the clever tactics of the Riverport boy.
And when the pleased Brad clapped Fred on the back he remarked:
"Elegantly done, my boy; only I do hope it won't tell on you in the biggest event of the meet; the five mile run. For they're pressing us hard, and we'll need every one of those three points, Fred; remember that!"