The start was in the Hillbury man’s favor. Rawson flew down the stretch, knocking over half his hurdles in his course, going like a torpedo boat in a rough sea. Just behind him came Todd, taking three swift strides between hurdles and rising like a bird swooping up in its flight. They seemed neck and neck at the last obstacle, but here Rawson struck hard and lost his stride, and Todd was easily first at the finish. Smith of Seaton was third, making the score Hillbury fourteen, Seaton eighteen.
“Now’s your chance for revenge,” said Curtis, as Dickinson started forth for the two-twenty. “Show those fellows what you can do, when you really have room to get headway. And we shouldn’t object to a new record, you know.”
The captain smiled grimly. “I shall be satisfied to win.”
Dickinson took his place with Travers and Ropes and Lary, at the starting line where the curve of the track began. They were a well-tested quartet. Lary was fresh from his victory in the hundred; Travers had prizes from contests of previous years; Ropes was a new man, hailed by the Hillbury coachers as a coming champion. To Dickinson it seemed the race of his life, so eager was he to atone for the disappointment he had given his schoolmates in his first race.
The runners got off in pairs, Travers and Lary ahead; Ropes and Dickinson side by side, gathering headway in the rear. Around the curve it seemed that Travers was ahead, but as the runners struck the straightaway, they were seen to tail out into a diagonal line across the track, Lary leading, then Travers, then Ropes, and Dickinson last. The Hillburyites, seeing the dreaded champion in the rear, emitted an incoherent howl of exultation.
“Will you look at that!” cried Curtis, who stood by Melvin, near the finish line. “Outclassed, as sure as guns!”
“No! No! Watch it out!” cried Dick, in answer. Down the track swept the line of white-clad, shaking, struggling figures. When it passed the Seaton benches Dick could see the excited spectators throw up their arms, could hear the yells, and guess that the long-legs were putting the ground behind them. A moment more, and he knew that the struggle was between Ropes and Dickinson for the lead; and then, as the white figures flashed by, he saw that the racers had tailed out again in the reverse order, Dickinson, Ropes, Travers, and Lary. And so the judges reported them in the finish. Score, Seaton twenty-four, Hillbury sixteen.
As the mile runners came out Melvin had word that the captain wished to see him. He found Dickinson in the dressing rooms, under the hands of the rubber.
“That was splendid, old man, perfectly splendid!” began the manager.
Dickinson checked him: “I didn’t bring you in here to tell me that stuff. It’s something serious. Do you know we’re not doing well? I don’t blame any one, of course. We’ve won certain points, but there are those field events at the end of the list that we aren’t at all sure of. We must get down to them with a good margin, or we’ll be beaten.”