“Hollingsworth has considerable confidence in Prince.”
“Who is Hollingsworth?”
“Our trainer. He’s an Englishman, and he knows his business. He was formerly the champion of the Middlesex Cross Country Club, in England. We were lucky to get hold of him here.”
“Long-distance and cross-country running seems to be a fad with your club, Proctor.”
“Naturally,” smiled the president of the club. “Mr. Robert Ashley, who founded the club, gave us our field and track and built this handsome clubhouse for us, is a crank on that sort of sport. In his day, he was the greatest cross-country and hare-and-hounds man in Oxford.”
“He is an Englishman?”
“Yes. That is, he was. He’s a naturalized American now. Made a fortune in mining and settled here. That splendid house you can see on the hill yonder is where he lives. It is modeled after the old English country mansion, and he calls it Ash Hall. Mr. Ashley claims that cross-country running is the finest sport in the world to develop staying power and endurance in a young man, and he says staying power is what the modern young man needs to make him successful in business. He thinks there are too many sprinters in business, who make a hot dash for a while, but are unable to keep up the pace until successful.”
Frank smiled and nodded.
“It is my opinion that Mr. Ashley is a man of wisdom and generosity,” he said. “The runners are coming down the straight course to the stand. We can get a better view of them now.”
He again lifted the glasses to his eyes, an example followed by several other persons.