"It's thirty-four miles," he said. "But the roads are fair. If the car was in shape it would be easy."
"We'll eat lunch while you overhaul it," she replied.
McCarthy secured the lunch from the car and they spread it upon the grass in the yard and ate. The girl was too weary for conversation, but as she ate she seemed to gain strength and courage.
"We'll get there before the game is over, anyhow," she said quietly. "I want to see Williams's face when you come onto the field."
"I thought you and he"——
"I never have liked him," she interrupted quickly.
Three minutes before the town clock chimed the hour of two in Hilton, the machine, again running smoothly, shot out from the garage. Its occupants, refreshed and more cheerful, faced the final stretch of the long race.
"Fourteen miles in twenty-one minutes," cried McCarthy, as the mile posts flashed by. "We'll be there."
