“He beat me by three inches—three inches,” murmured Dutch, as if he could not understand it.
“Never mind,” consoled Kindlings. “You did ten inches better than you ever did in practice, Dutch. It was a great throw, and—Oh, well, we’ve got a chance yet.”
The preparations for the throwing of the sixteen pound hammer were now underway. The Jersey twins, Pete Backus, and Holly were entered in this, and as they had all done well in practice the hopes of Randall ran high.
“Beat ’em, boys, beat ’em!” called Tom Parsons, as the quartette went forward to meet their opponents. At that moment Wallops, who, with some of the other Randall messengers, was on the ground approached Tom.
“Your father is looking for you, Mr. Parsons,” he said.
“My—my father?” gasped Tom. “What do you mean? Is he here?”
“Yes, he just arrived. He’s over talking to Dr. Churchill, and the doctor sent me to find you. Your father wants to see you.”
“Wants to see me,” faltered Tom. There could be but one meaning to the unexpected visit, he thought. He must leave Randall.