"Go it, Ben!" yelled Dave. "You can win, I know it!"
"Sail right past 'em!" came from the senator's son. "Hump yourself, old man!"
"Make 'em take the dust!" added Phil.
Ben hardly heard the words, for he was now running with all his strength. He passed first one boy and then another, and then came abreast of Nat Poole. So they moved on to within a dozen paces of the finish. Then Ben made a leap ahead, and so did one of the other contestants, and Ben came in the winner, with the other boy second, and Nat Poole third. A roar went right across the field.
"Ben Basswood wins!"
"Jake Tatmon is second!"
"Nat Poole came in only third, and he boasted he was going to win, sure!"
As soon as the race was over, Nat Poole sneaked out of sight, behind some friends. He was bitterly disappointed, and could scarcely keep from running away altogether.
"You didn't fix him at all," he whispered to Gus Plum, when he got the chance. "He was in prime condition."
"I did the best I could—you saw him go down, with me on top of him," retorted the bully. "Now, don't you forget what you promised," he added, sharply.