[CHAPTER XX]
“WE NEED EVERY POINT”
“Say, old man, I’m mighty sorry about that!” cried the lad who had caused the mischief, as he put his arm about Frank. “I wouldn’t have done it for the world—I slipped. Are you badly hurt?”
It needed but a glance at Frank’s shoe, whence came a few drops of blood, to show that he was painfully hurt, if not seriously crippled.
“The spikes have gone clear through!” gasped Sid.
“No, it’s not as bad as that,” said Frank. “Get my shoe off, fellows, and——”
A spasm of pain prevented him from finishing the sentence and he sat down on the ground. Tom had the shoe off quickly.
It was seen that two of the spikes on Shambler’s sole had gone through the outer, fleshy part of Frank’s foot. There was a little bleeding, but it soon stopped.
“That’s got to be looked at at once!” decided Holly Cross when he saw it. “You’re likely to go lame, old man.”
“Jove! That’s bad,” murmured Phil, and several black looks were cast at Shambler, for all the lads knew how much depended on Frank in the broad jumping contest.
“Oh, I guess I’ll be all right,” spoke the injured lad, whose pain was abated somewhat with the removal of the shoe, for his foot had begun to swell. “It’s all right, Shambler. I know you didn’t mean to do it. I’ll be in shape for the meet all right.”