“Yes, indeed, I have seen him that nervous—” said Isa, and stopped abruptly.
“Ah! That is quite possible,” replied the M.P.P. with a quizzical smile.
“And there is young Cameron yonder. He is not going to throw, is he?” enquired Mr. Munro.
“He is coaching Mack,” explained Isa, “and fine he is at it. Oh, there! He is going to throw! Oh, if he only gets the swing! Oh! Oh! Oh! He has got it fine!”
A storm of cheers followed Mack's throw, then a deep silence while the judges took the measurement.
“One hundred and twenty-one feet!”
“One hundred and twenty-one!” echoed a hundred voices in amazement.
“One hundred and twenty-one! It is a lie!” cried McGee with an oath, striding out to personally supervise the measuring.
“One hundred and twenty-one!” said Duncan Ross, shaking his head doubtfully, but he was too much of a gentleman to do other than wait for the judges' decision.
“One hundred and twenty-one feet and two inches,” was the final verdict, and from the crowd there rose a roar that rolled like thunder around the hills.