“You told us to keep Ruddy, Ditmore and Snow back—you didn’t say a word about Nelson,” growled Paxton.
“Well, who imagined he’d come in first? I didn’t think he’d last more than six or seven miles.”
“If your money is gone, so is mine,” sighed Coulter. “And I’ll be about ten dollars in debt in the bargain.”
“I am in debt, too,” added Paxton. “And besides, look at both of us,” and he pointed to their numerous scratches, now covered with court-plaster.
“Somebody said you were going to make a complaint against Ruddy and his chums?”
“So we were—when we thought one or another of ’em would come in ahead,” answered Paxton. “But as none of them won, what’s the use? We don’t want to get into a row if we can’t gain anything by it. If one of ’em had won, we might have raised a kick and had the winner disqualified—and saved our cash.”
“Were they to blame at all?” asked Ritter, curiously.
“No—but you needn’t tell outsiders so,” answered Gus Coulter.
While this talk was going on Jack and Andy sought out Mr. Strong. They found the assistant teacher in one of the classrooms, marking some lesson papers.
“Mr. Strong, we would like to speak to you for a few minutes in private,” said the young major.