And when at last, tired but happy, they turned their backs on the dazzling scene and were on their way back to the hotel, their talk naturally fell on the topic that was uppermost in their minds.
“How are you feeling, Bert?” asked Tom. “Are you fit?”
“I feel like a two-year-old,” was the answer. “I’m hard as nails and right at the top of my form. I’ll have no excuses to offer.”
“You won’t need any,” said Dick confidently. “Leave those to the losers.”
“One never can tell,” mused Bert. “There are some crack riders in that bunch. But I’m going to do my level best, not only for my own sake, but so that the foreigners can’t crow over us. I’d hate to see America lose.”
“She can’t,” asserted Tom. “Not on the Fourth of July!”