“A runner in sight!” passed along the lines, and immediately everything else was neglected, while the crowd formed a long double lane from the outskirts of the field to the tape, which the contestants had to breast in order to have their time taken.
“Who is it? Ginger Harper making it a sweep?” cried one, mockingly.
“Say, Ginger’s been back here these ten minutes and more,” called out another. “He gave out at the first half-mile stone, and came home to see the run-in!”
“It’s Frank Allen!” arose the shout.
“You’re all mistaken, for it’s Lanky Wallace. Don’t you see how tall he is; and aren’t we all of us on to his way of running!” whooped Buster Billings, red in the face with all he had been attempting in various lines.
“Lanky Wallace leads!”
“Three Lankies for cheers!” shrieked Red Huggins, who always managed to get his sentences twisted when excited, and as some of the boys said, “got the cart before the horse.”
“And he’s beat his best time by a whole lot, too!” announced another enthusiast.
Some of the Bellport and Clifford boys were seen comparing watches as Lanky came bounding along with tremendous strides, making for the tape-line, and apparently they were staggered to realize what small chance their athletes had in comparison with this wonder.
“If he kept to the track he’s the best ever!” one fellow said, shaking his head as though he could hardly believe it.