Then came the second trial of the hundred immediately on the heels of the first. This was well run, but slower, and it was won by the bandy-legged Herring. A Freshman named King was second, and Wilson, a Sophomore, third.
The mile followed and showed nothing promising, no Freshmen getting nearer than fifth place.
"Didn't expect anything, anyway," said Patsy. "A fellow has to learn to run the mile." But in the hurdle trials Tommy Brown, the skinny spindle-shanks, surprised everybody by galloping off with first place, beating out Morris, the Junior hurdler. In the finals, however, Morris got back at him and won, but the Freshman made him stretch himself to the limit. Patsy was as happy as a lark at finding such youngsters.
"This Freshman class has some good stuff in it," he said, "the best that has come to Queen's for many moons. Armstrong and Brown are going to be corkers, you mark my words. Just watch Armstrong in the hundred. For a kid who has had no experience he is a wonder."
"All out for the finals of the hundred," cried Patsy's assistant, who was helping to run off the events. The summons brought out the six who had been successful in the trials—Collins, Herring, Armstrong, King, Wilson, and a Junior named Howard. The latter two were not expected to figure very heavily in the race.
"Collins and Herring will run scratch in this race," said Patsy, who was getting the six ready up at the start. "You two Freshmen go to that six-foot handicap mark; Howard and Wilson, you take an extra yard."
The boys went to their places, and there was a false start, but on the next attempt they got away splendidly. The first spring took Frank ahead of King, and he never saw him again until the race was over, but Collins, who had got a magnificent start, had made up most of the distance in the first thirty yards. Frank felt him at his elbow, and determined not to let him pass that point. On they flew. The spectators were crowding out on the track and craning their necks. Collins was running desperately for his reputation as the best sprinter in the school was at stake. He had come up on Frank inch by inch, but every inch was hard won. The crowd was close above them now and shouting:
"Collins!"
"Armstrong!"
"The Freshman's winning!"