“I intended it for a surprise,” said Hodge, with a forced laugh.
Frank was not at all pleased. As he was the president of the Combine, he felt that Hodge had not done right in entering for the contest without his knowledge.
At first he thought of refusing to let Bart race, but he quickly banished such an inclination, knowing it might seem that he feared he would be beaten by one of his own club.
“But we’ll have a little understanding about this later on,” he mentally vowed.
Besides Bart, Frank and Wallace Random, there were three others who had entered for the hurdle race. They were Perkins, of the Southern Union Athletic Club, of Los Angeles; Keeler, of Ventaur, and a Mexican, Pablo Salero, from some unknown place.
The Mexican was a little fellow, while the others were supple and well-built lads.
“Ready, gentlemen!”
It was the voice of the starter.
The six contestants leaned forward, ready to dash away in a moment.
“One!”