Along the hard road they sped, their lungs filled with fresh air, their entire bodies tingling with the intoxication of perfect health.
Ahead of them gleamed the city’s lights. On either side lights shone from the windows of houses.
They strung out on Whalley Avenue, for now they were permitted to speed up some as the end of the run drew near. At last they came to Elm Street and the gym.
There the men were given cold showers, and rubbed down with rough towels, till their bodies glowed like furnaces.
When they left the gym they felt “like fighting cocks,” for all of what they had done and gone through.
Frank and Bart left the gym together.
“Are you going to your room, Hodge?” asked Merry.
“Not now,” was the answer.
“Well, come up to mine. I’ve got to work hard to-night, but we can have a little chat of a few minutes before I get down to grinding.”
“I’ve got to go somewhere else. I’ll see you to-morrow, Merry. So-long.”