Dick laughed, a little harshly it must be confessed.
“Well, as I’ve got a copy of it you may have that great pleasure still,” he told them. “Perhaps it’s the only chance you’ll ever get, for I reckon my effort isn’t going to set the river on fire; and I’ve been hearing wonderful stories about another farce, which I expect will walk around my poor attempt.”
Most of Dick’s chums had heard more or less of the same thing, for Dit Hennesy and Alonzo Crane had taken considerable pleasure in boasting what a “screamer” Nat’s effusion was going to be.
Still Peg and Elmer and the rest of them were loyal to Dick. They had seen him gain the goal many times in races and games, even when the odds were against him; and fully believed he must come again under the line first.
“Talk never wins a race, Dick,” said Leslie.
“And lots of fellows do their shouting before the end,” remarked Peg. “I’m banking on you to cop that prize, no matter what Nat says.”
“And remember,” added Elmer, “you’ve as good as promised to let us hear the sketch from beginning to end at the first favorable opportunity.”
“It’s kind of you to want to hear it, that’s all I’ve got to say,” laughed the author. “Anyhow, a load is lifted off my shoulders. Good or bad, it’s got to stand. I’m through bothering over it. If Nat’s done something that throws mine in the shade, all right. I’ll have to grin and bear it. And now, please let up on that subject. I want to forget it for a while.”
“Well, here goes!” announced Fred Bonnicastle, as he rose to his feet.
“Are you really meaning to make a test of the ice, Fred?” asked Dick, dubiously. “It looks mighty thin to me, and I can see several places where the big rocks that have been dropped on the same have broken through.”