“Hang it all, it seems like a funeral!” murmured Sid.
“Cut that out, you heathen!” ordered Phil, thumping his chum on the back.
“Feeling nervous?” asked Frank of Tom, to whom he sat next in the big car, for, though the Big Californian was not to compete, he rode with his chums.
“Just a little. I’m always thinking that I’ll slip, or—something——”
“Let the other fellow do the worrying,” suggested Frank, and it was good advice.
It was not a long ride to Tonoka Park, and when the autos containing the athletes came in sight of it, the lads saw the grounds gay in colors, while a big throng was already on hand. The strains of a band could be heard, and there were cheers and songs, for the crowds from Boxer Hall and Fairview were already in evidence.
“My! There’s a mob!” remarked Tom, as they swung up to the part of the field set apart for them.
“And look at the girls!” added Phil, as he waved his hand toward a section of the grandstand where the maids of Fairview were gathered.
“Will we have time to see ’em before we dress?” asked Sid.