“Why do you think Bramwell the most dangerous?”
“Because he is a perfect bulldog, sir—he sets his jaws and never lets go.”
“An excellent quality in a cross-country man.”
“It is Bramwell who might press you hard, sir, if he had confidence in himself, and had been trained in much cross-country running. I have not given him the training, and I’ve taken pains not to let him know he’s half as good as he really is.”
“Oh, I think you overestimate him, Hollingsworth. Besides, the men I fear are Pope, Neil, Lyons, and—Merriwell. There is where you made another blunder.”
“Where, sir?”
“In hounding Merriwell to get into the match. Why did you do it?”
“I didn’t think he would enter.”
“He’s going to enter, and he’s the man I fear above all others.”
“Which shows you have real horse sense,” muttered the unseen listener in the stand, smiling grimly.