“Suit yourselves,” laughed Wallace, “but you must remember that we have some hot lads down here, and we do not propose to let anybody from the East carry off honors if we can prevent it.”
“I rather fancy you will find some hot stuff among the members of our club,” said Frank, quietly. “We will represent Yale College, and it is seldom ‘Old Eli’ gets left at anything.”
“I understand you are something of a runner and hurdle-racer,” Random said.
“There are others,” was the answer. “I am not the only one.”
“But I have heard that you are pretty good.”
“He is a dim jandy—I mean a jim dandy,” spluttered Harry, getting somewhat excited. “I don’t believe you have any one out here who can keep in sight of him.”
Random elevated his eyebrows.
“Now you do interest me!” he exclaimed. “I am something of a runner myself, and I shall take part in the hurdle race and the hundred yards dash. Perhaps Mr. Merriwell may like to enter those contests. Out here they say I am bound to win in a canter. Mr. Merriwell might make it interesting, at least.”
“Inderesting!” cried Hans. “I pets you your life he peats der packin’ oudt uf you! I haf seen dot poy sbrint!”
“Begorra! he’s a birrud!” nodded Barney. “He was th’ shwiftest runner in Farrdale whin we wur there.”