Merry finished dressing and walked over to the Ashport man.
“Who do you consider the best runner in your set, Bramwell?” he inquired.
“Why, Prince, of course,” was the prompt answer. “We hope he’ll be able to take the trophy.”
“Has Hollingsworth ever told you that you could beat Prince in a cross-country run?”
“Well, hardly!” was the laughing answer. “Why should he?”
“Because you ought to do it, and I believe you can.”
Bramwell looked surprised.
“Quit your kidding!” he exclaimed. “I’m going into this thing because I like the sport.”
“That’s one good reason why you stand a fine chance to win. You like it. Prince likes the glory, but he does not like the work. I want to tell you something in confidence: Hollingsworth really believes you stand a better show of winning than any other Ashport runner.”
Bramwell showed his incredulity, which seemed to turn into resentment in a moment.