Dick took his stand within the circle, and made ready for his trial. After weeks of disappointment, there had finally come a day when the whole theory of the double turn had worked itself out satisfactorily in his brain, and had remained there, so that for the past fortnight he had kept his form, and had steadily increased the distance of his throws. Yet McDonald, although a great believer in light work before a competition, knew from experience how easily the knack with the hammer may be lost, and while he had made Dick stop his running and jumping, he had kept him at light practice with the weight, taking half a dozen throws a day, until his pupil had acquired a method that was almost mechanical in its certainty. Now he found little to criticize as Dick spun around quickly and smoothly, keeping well within the circle, and sending the missile far down the field. He nodded approval. "All right," he called, "that's enough. We'll stop right there. Let's put the tape on it."
While they were measuring, Joe, from his position near the fence, happened to glance into the woods beyond the field, and having looked once, he seemed to take no further interest in the hammer throwers, but lay still, and without appearing to do so, kept a watchful eye on the spot of light which had gleamed from the branches of the big oak tree on the border of the wood. The last rays of the sunset streamed gloriously across the field; in answer, flash after flash came sparkling from the oak; and then the sun dipped behind the hills, and the soft shadow of the twilight crept downward toward the town.
Dick and McDonald, talking earnestly together, started to leave the field. At the corner of the wood, Dick turned, gazing out at the darkening west. "Fine day to-morrow, I guess, all right," he said.
"Yes," McDonald assented, "it looks like it. And we're going to have you in shape to do a good performance, Dick. Wait till you've eaten the steak I've got for you. That's going to put the muscle on. It'll mean a foot in the hammer, I know."
Dick laughed. "Well, you were good to invite me to stay," he answered. "I told Mr. Fenton we had a few last things to talk over, and that I'd come back after supper. And he said that would be all right. Now, about that high jump--"
They walked on toward the cottage. As they passed the angle of the woods, Joe, who had been walking along behind them, hurried up to McDonald, spoke a few quick words to him in an undertone, and darted away among the trees. Dick looked after him in surprise. "What's struck the kid?" he asked.
McDonald shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know myself," he answered, "he takes queer notions sometimes. Something, he said, about a big bird in a tree. But he's all right. He's a smart youngster, and he knows the woods like a book. He'll be back by supper-time."
They walked on again, still discussing the all-absorbing topic of the morrow's meet. In the meantime, Joe's little figure was flitting onward through the woods, slipping silently from tree to tree, from time to time stopping to listen, until finally, ahead of him, he heard the murmur of voices. Dropping quickly on his hands and knees, he crept forward through the underbrush. Then, reaching the edge of a little clearing, he peered cautiously through the bushes, and saw before him the figures of two men, standing talking together in the fading light. One of them was slight and dark, and fashionably dressed, and as Joe saw the pair of field-glasses slung over his shoulder, his eyes gleamed, and he gave a quick little nod to himself, as if now sure of something which he had only suspected before. The other man was short, broad, powerful, his thick chest and long arms suggesting a strength far above the average. It was he who was speaking, and Joe strained his ears to listen to every word.
"I don't like it," he was saying; "the whole thing's too big a risk. You're safe, I guess, if you play it straight. Ellis is going to win."
"No, he isn't going to win," the dapper young man replied. "I've climbed that cursed tree every afternoon for the last week, and I know how far Randall's getting that hammer, and I tell you again that, barring accidents, he's going to lick Ellis on the show-down. It will be close, but Randall wins."