“I rather hoped it would,” said Mr. Parsons. “That’s why I came here on the first train I could get. Go on now, and—win!”
Tom nodded, and started from the grandstand, while his father again took his seat near Dr. Churchill. The throwing of the sixteen pound hammer had already started, with Exter leading off. Her entrants did well, and so did those of Boxer Hall, and then came the turn of Randall.
“Go to it, Joe! Go to it!” yelled Bean Perkins, as one of the Jersey twins stepped into the circle. “Come on now, boys, give ’em the ‘hammer and tongs,’ song.”
It rolled out splendidly as Joe Jackson threw. Perhaps it added to his strength and skill, for certainly his heave was not beaten that day. It stands as a record yet in the Tonoka Lake League—one hundred and twenty-two feet and ten inches—but a short distance less than some of the best amateur records.
“Randall wins!” came the announcement at the close of this contest, and Kindlings remarked:
“One of the five!”
The putting of the sixteen pound shot contest was closer than either of the two previous events. It was a matter of inches to decide the winner, and there was a claim of a foul on the part of Exter against one of the Boxer Hall contestants which caused a delay.
“Say, those fellows seem to do nothing but find fault,” remarked Tom to Phil.
“Yes, they’re afraid they won’t get all that’s coming to ’em, I guess.”