“Oh, my muscles will stand it,” answered Pete. “Do ’em good to get lame, I guess.” But Billy shook his head.
“No, that won’t do. You leave off now and report to me to-morrow at four-thirty.”
“What for?” asked Pete, in surprise.
“For practise. We’ll try you in the meet next Friday.”
“No, I guess not,” said Pete, shaking his head. “If you had a roping contest I might try my hand, but these athletic stunts have me beat.”
“Never mind about that,” answered the trainer, “you do as I say. We need you, and we’re going to have you. Four-thirty, remember; and you’d better get some togs.”
He nodded and walked away. Pete, staring after him, expressed his surprise by a long whistle.