“That ith all I care for,” nodded Veazie. “Oh, I hate that fellow! I’d like to give him a weal hard hit with the heavy end of my cane!”
Not a great distance from the Chickering crowd were gathered Hodge, Mason, Hooker, Browning, and Carker. Hodge was looking strangely worried, though he had nothing to say.
“A glorious day, gentlemen,” said Mason. “Why, it’s like a day in the South; yes, sah. A perfect day for such a race.”
“But I’ve got an idea something is going wrong,” put in Carker. “I don’t know why I feel that way, but I can’t help it.”
“Oh, say!” grunted Browning; “do you ever feel any other way? Why don’t you try to be cheerful and hopeful one day, just for a change?”
“There is too much careless cheerfulness and hopeless hopefulness in this world,” sighed Greg. “I tell you we are rushing into grave and terrible dangers, yet sober-minded men of to-day scarcely ever pause to scan the black storm-cloud that is gathering. Some day it will burst in all its fury.”
“It’s a thunder-storm this time!” grumbled Bruce. “Well, at least that is a relief from your tiresome old earthquake, Cark.”
“You are like all the others,” sighed Greg. “Some day you may awaken to the truth, but I fear it will then be too late. The storm will have burst. It is coming with the swiftness of——”
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, shut up!” growled Hodge, who was watching the starting-point with an expression of anxiety on his face. “This is a time to think of something else. I swear I believe there is something the matter!”
Berlin Carson came rushing up.