‘Come on, Beefy!’
These were the last cries. Jason made another magnificent leap; the prize seemed his, but his foot slipped on the wet soil, and Beefy shot past.
‘You’re winning, Beefy! Go hard!’
It looked like that. Then, just ten yards from the tape, all were dumbfounded to see Ginger leap forward like a deer and breast the line three yards ahead of Beefy Jones.
A terrific cheering burst from the spectators, but my heart was sick for poor old Beefy. However, as he burst through the tape he collided with Ginger, and shouted, ‘Good, Ginger—we’ve won—and I’m happy!’
‘Yes—the Oxford finish.’
‘All right, old cock; come and have a Cambridge bath.’
Ginger used up a whole cake of Sunlight soap.
| • | • | • | • | • | • |
That night Billy Greens found Beefy reading a serious-looking book.