But the admiration of the beholders was aroused not merely on account of the material from which the trophy had been made and its evident great value; the figure was splendidly and scientifically molded, being so natural in its every pose, resting on the toes of the right foot, with the left leg thrown forward in a fine stride, the knee bent, the naked left arm swung backward on a line and the right arm forward, the hands closed, the head setting perfectly on a slender yet full neck, the face firm and determined, every line from toe to topknot denoting vigorous and easy action—so natural was it that it must have created a sensation even though formed of lead.
Those present crowded about the table. After a little they began to comment wonderingly, not so much on the costliness of the trophy, as on its value as a work of art. There was no one present who did not realize that it must have cost a great sum of money, and was something that the fortunate winner could display throughout the remainder of his life with the utmost pride.
After they had discussed it for a time, Mr. Ashley spoke:
“Gentlemen,” he said, “it may seem strange to you that I have not up to the present time made known the exact nature of the trophy I intended to offer. I will explain. It is my belief that the cleanest and most commendable sports are those in which the contestants participate without covetousness or hope of reward other than the glory that comes to the victor. In the glorious days of Greece the victor was rewarded with a wreath of laurel. I believed it was possible to bring together for this event the leading long-distance runners of this country, without arousing their greed by advertising the real worth of the trophy, and the result has justified my judgment. Only those who have already entered or to-day announce their intention to enter and make proper application will be accepted. Already the leading amateurs of the United States, with one or two exceptions, are entered. There is no longer a chance that greed will bring others into the contest. May the victor prove worthy of the trophy, and may it inspire him to his best efforts through life.” This final speech was greeted with even more applause than the first had aroused. The astonishing generosity of Mr. Ashley was commented upon quietly by little groups, and it was universally agreed that the winner of the contest might properly lay claim to the title of cross-country champion of America.
Two young men entered and advanced to view the trophy. One of them attracted attention right away. Among those who hastened to speak to him was Herbert Hollingsworth.
“Jove, Merry!” exclaimed Hodge softly; “did you catch that chap’s name?”
“What chap?”
“The one who just came in with the fellow in the blue suit. Hollingsworth is talking to him now.”
“No, I didn’t catch his name.”
“Hollingsworth called him Huntley.”