“On your marks!” cried the starter.
“They’re going to run!” said Ruth Clinton to Madge, who sat next to her.
“I know it—I know it!” replied Madge nervously. “Oh, I do hope he wins!”
“Who, Roger Barns?” asked Ruth. “Evidently not though, since you waved the yellow and maroon.”
“Of course not—you know who I mean,” and Madge blushed.
Crack went the starter’s pistol, and the runners were away on their course.
“They’re off!” yelled Bean Perkins. “Now boys, the ‘Conquer or Die,’ song, and sing it as you never sang it before. We want Tom to win, and our other lads to get second and third.”
Our hero, running with all his might, heard the sweet strains wafted to him across the track, and he shut his lips grimly, and looked at Langridge out of the corners of his eyes.
The track was a half mile one, two laps being necessary to make the distance. As it was a big wide one, enabling all the contestants to start at once, there was no necessity for heats in this event. It could thus be decided more quickly.