“Some,” answered Allan, “at school.”
“Well, you see me Monday.”
When the trainer had gone, Hooker called across:
“Say, Ware, you’re done for now.”
“How’s that?” asked Allan.
“Why, when Billy takes a fancy to you, he just merely works you to death. You weigh when you get over to gym and then weigh again, say, three weeks from now. You won’t know yourself.”
A laugh went up. Rindgely chimed in with:
“You’ll find your work different from winning a mile with a couple of hundred yards handicap.”
Allan had only had one hundred and twenty, but he didn’t think it worth while correcting Rindgely, who was evidently rather sore over his defeat. Harris unexpectedly took up for him.
“He didn’t have that much handicap, Larry; and if he had, it wouldn’t have made any difference to you, you old ice-wagon. What was the matter with you, anyhow?”