“Better,” replied Fudge. “Of course, the track’s awfully slow——”
“How much? Let’s see?”
Fudge yielded the watch and Perry examined it. “Eleven and two-fifths!” he shouted protestingly. “Say, this thing’s crazy! I know mighty well I didn’t run nearly so fast as I did the first time!”
“I didn’t snap it soon enough the other time,” explained Fudge. “Honest, Perry, eleven and two-fifths isn’t half bad. Why, look at the slow track and your long trousers——”
“Yes, and they weigh a ton, they’re so wet,” grumbled Perry. “And so do these shoes. I’m going to try it some time when the track’s dry and I’ve got regular running things on. I suppose eleven and two-fifths isn’t terribly bad, considering!”
“Bad! It’s mighty good,” said Fudge warmly. “Why, look here, Perry, if you can do it in that time to-day you can do it nearly a second faster on a dry track and—and all! You see if you can’t. I’ll bet you you’ll be a regular sprinter by the time we meet Springdale!”
“Honest, Fudge?”
“Honest to goodness! To-morrow you put your name down for the Track Team and get yourself some running things. I’ll go along with you if you like. I know just what you ought to have.”
“I don’t suppose I’ll really have any show for the team,” said Perry modestly. “But it’ll be pretty good fun. Say, Fudge, I didn’t know I could run as fast as I did that first time. It seemed to me I was going like the very dickens! It—it’s mighty interesting, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” replied Fudge, as Perry donned his things. “You don’t want to try the two-twenty or the hurdles, do you?”