"David made a record run to Milton, ransacked the town and brought these to me."
"Isn't he a brick?" said Jimmy.
"They don't make many like him, I tell you."
"Well, you look like a winner, now; your face isn't so long as it was," said Jimmy. "I'm betting on you. Did you notice Chip Dixon's skates? They are Ruddocks, and they look mightily like yours. They are brand new, too. I wonder!!"
"I can't believe it," said Frank. "He wouldn't dare do it. But I thought he grinned sarcastically when I met him this afternoon, and he saw my old skates in my hand. But maybe we'll surprise him yet."
"Here they come, here they come," shouted the crowd. Far up the river could be seen a lot of flying arms and legs.
"Warwick's ahead."
"No, it's Queen's; can't you see the blue jerseys?"
Nearer and nearer they came. Then it was seen that two gray jerseys and a blue jersey were in the leading group, while at some distance behind, the other three plugged along. But it was plain that a gray jersey headed the first group, only a few strides ahead, but still ahead; and as the struggling skaters came flying towards the finish that gray jersey seemed to lengthen out, pulling along with it the other gray jersey.
"Warwick, Warwick, Warwick," yelled the crowd. It was Warwick indeed, and all Warwick. Two of her skaters flashed over the line first and second, and the race was ended. It was now the turn of the Warwick adherents to expend their enthusiasm on the winner, and this they did with great noise and shouting. Morgan was announced as the winner, and escorted to where his team-mates were resting on a pile of blankets on the boards on the ice.