“I don’t think he could give me ten yards in one hundred and twenty,” I replied.
Brag looked at me with curiosity when I said this, and asked if I could run well.
I told him I believed I could, as I had tried several times, and generally secured first bat (which, however, I was never allowed to retain if an old cadet was near).
“I can run fairly,” said Brag, “so I can soon find out what you can do. Come out and have a trial. It’s nearly dark, so we can keep the secret.”
Brag and I went out on the parade and paced off a hundred and twenty yards, and laid down a white handkerchief to mark the distance. We started ourselves, and commenced our race. Before we had gone thirty yards I found I could go away from Brag very, easily. I kept beside him for about seventy yards and then shot away, and beat him by nearly ten yards.
When we pulled up, Brag said, “By George, you can run! Let me get my wind, and then see if you can give me ten yards in one hundred and twenty.”
After a few minutes, Brag announced himself ready, and, having measured ten good paces, we started at “One, two, three, and away!” and commenced our second trial. Not being able to see the handkerchiefs till near them, I did not know how to arrange my speed. I, however, caught and passed Brag, and won by about two yards.
“I don’t think there is anything the matter with me,” said Brag, “and I believe I’ve run all right; and if so, you’ve a tremendous turn of speed. Now, you keep quiet about this, and I’ll have some fun.”
We went again to our rooms, and Brag recommenced his work and said nothing to Snipson about our trial race.
On the following morning we had examinations, and those who had finished their papers came out of academy. There was no drill, so the cadets were scattered about the parade kicking the football and trying to kick it against the face of the clock. I was looking on at this, and watching for a chance of a kick, when I heard one old cadet call out to another,—