“One point wouldn’t have made any difference in the result. You deserved second, anyhow, by the way you’ve worked. Fairmount will be gone next year, and then you’ll have things your own way.”
“There’s Kilham,” said Sam, wistfully. “He’s only an upper middler. He’ll be in Hillbury next year and beat me out again; then he’ll go to Yale and I to Harvard, and he’ll beat me four years more. That’s what I’m up against!”
“Oh, cheer up!” returned Duncan. “You’ve improved a lot this year. You may beat him all to pieces next year. They said that your race to-day was in mighty good time, and you weren’t much behind Kilham.”
Sam shook his head with a smile of resignation. “I haven’t won a thing this year, and I probably shan’t do any better next, but I’m going to keep right on. I’m too much used to losing to mind, and there’s always a chance that by a fluke I may win something.”
“It’s a shame!” thought Duncan to himself. “I’d never coach a fellow up just so that he could take a prize from me, if the school never won an extra point.”
CHAPTER XXIV
ROBERT OWEN, FRESHMAN
On the Monday following the Hillbury games, Duncan rushed in with a letter in his hand, and an eager look on his face.
“Look here, Sam! Bob Owen’s sent me two tickets to the Harvard-Yale Freshman ball game on Wednesday. Do you suppose they’d let us off to go?”
“Who’s us?”