“What is he, a miler?” asked Hal.
Tommy nodded.
“Guess that explains his cutting up with you, Allan; you beat him in the fall, didn’t you?”
“Yes, with a good big handicap.”
“Well, he’s afraid you’re going to cut him out of a place in the dual meet.”
“There’s no good reason why he should think so. He can beat me, I’m pretty sure. Besides, if Billy Kernahan has his way, I’ll be down only for the two miles at the dual.”
“We’re going to have a dandy article on the indoor meeting this week,” said Tommy.
“Wrote it yourself, eh?” suggested Hal.
“I suppose it will be like last year’s, though,” Tommy continued, ruefully. “We had two columns, with everything figured out finely: who was going to do what, and which fellows would win places. And then it came out all wrong.”
“Say, Thomas,” said Pete, when the laughter had subsided, “I don’t want to hurry you, but I’m getting the powerful hungers.”