“Count me in on that, too, Darrel,” put in Brad.
“You fellows are pretty good to a stranger,” said Darrel, his voice husky with feeling. “I won’t forget it, either. Now, changing the subject a little and coming down to this race of mine against Jode, I might be an impostor, and, at the same time, happen to have the speed to beat him over that hundred yards; but any one that ever saw Ellis Darrel run knows that he has a form of his own—a few individualities that crop out on the track and could not be copied. That is going to do more than just winning the race to put me in right with the Gold Hill fellows. See what I mean, Merriwell?”
Frank nodded understandingly.
“Jode has a few peculiarities himself,” Darrel went on, “and one of them is beating the pistol.”
“That’s mighty crooked,” said Frank. “A fellow that makes a practice of it is bound to be found out, sooner or later, and made to take his medicine.”
“Starters, as you know, don’t all wait the same length of time between the order to get set and the ‘crack’ that starts them over the course; but, almost invariably, each starter has his own habit, and clings to it. Some starters may wait two seconds, and some four, and if a sprinter knows his man, he can get off with the pistol, and not after he hears it. If a sprinter is clever at it, it’s mighty hard to detect him; and if he is detected occasionally he can plead nervousness, and get off without much trouble. Now, Jode’s pretty slick at the game; and if Beman, one of the boys in the Gold Hill crowd, fires the pistol, Jode will know exactly what to do.”
“We’ll see to it that Beman doesn’t act as starter,” declared Brad.
“You get me wrong, Bradlaugh,” returned Darrel. “If Jode makes the request, I want you to let Beman act. Then watch Jode, both of you. If he beats the pistol, then you’ll understand that I know what I’m talking about. It will be a little proof that I’m playing square; and, whatever happens, I don’t want you to doubt me.”
“If a man gains half a second at the start, Darrel,” protested Frank, “you ought to know what it means in a hundred-yard dash. It’s the same as leading you at the start by anywhere from ten to twenty feet. A fairly good runner will cover twenty-five feet of ground in a second.”
Darrel smiled cheerfully.