"Then, start at the word three. One! Two! Three!"
Amid shouts of applause, the two fat men started. It cannot be said they started like arrows from the bow, but they certainly exerted themselves uncommonly. Their faces grew red with the efforts they made, and their colossal legs hurried over the ground as fast as could reasonably be expected.
"I could beat them easily," said James Watson.
"Of course you could. Just wait till you've got as much to carry. Look! there's Morrison down!"
It was true. Somehow one of Morrison's legs entangled with the other, and he tumbled and rolled over and over.
"Go in and win, Hayden!" shouted fifty voices to his gasping competitor.
About seventy-five yards remained to be traversed. It look as if Hayden could win the race with opposition. But he was quite out of breath. He pressed both hands on his stomach, stopped, and deliberately sat down on the track.
"Don't give it up!" yelled the crowd. "Keep on, and the prize is yours!"
"I can't," gasped Hayden, "and I wouldn't for five times the prize. I don't want it."
So the prize was not awarded, but the crowd had their fun, and the two fat competitors sat down together to rest under a tree. They did not recover from their efforts for at least an hour.