"Can you go ahead?" asked Phil, of Dave.
"I think so," was the answer. "But that was a mean thing to do. He came near crushing my little toe."
Fortunately, several of the hurdles had not been properly placed, and it took some little time to arrange them properly. During that interval Roger dressed the injured foot for his chum, which made it feel much better.
"Are you all ready?" was the question put to the contestants, as they lined up. Then came a pause, followed by the crack of a revolver, and they were off.
The encounter with Nat Poole had nerved Dave as he had seldom been nerved before. Ben had won, and he made up his mind to do the same, regardless of the fact that Gus Plum and one of the other boys in the race were bigger than himself. He took the first and second hurdles with ease, and then found himself in a bunch, with Plum on one side and a lad named Cashod on the other.
"Whoop her up, Cashod!" he yelled out. "Come on, and show the others what we can do!"
"Right you are, Porter!" was the answering cry.
"Not much!" puffed out Gus Plum. "I'm the winner here!"
"Rats!" answered Dave. "You'll come in fifth, Plum. You're winded already!" And then, with a mighty effort, he leaped to the front, with Cashod on his heels. "Poole didn't do your dirty work well enough," he flung back over his shoulder as he took his fourth hurdle.
The taunts angered Gus Plum, and this made him lose ground, until, almost before he knew it, the third pupil in the race dashed past him. Then he found himself neck-and-neck with the fifth contestant.