“Hard luck,” said Lanny. “You’ll make it in the two-twenty, though.” He returned to where Perry was standing. “Funny that Kirke let Soper beat him,” he said. “He’s been finishing ahead of Soper right along, hasn’t he?”
“Yes, but I think Kirke’s better in the two-twenty. Are you going to run, Lanny?”
Lanny pursed his mouth grimly. “I don’t believe it will be running, but I’m going to start just for fun.”
“But won’t it hurt your leg?” asked Perry anxiously.
“Doc says so, but he’s an old granny. I won’t be able to finish, I guess, but I hate not to have a shot at it.”
“Griner!” called the Clerk of the Course. “Stratton! Stratton?”
“Withdrawn,” someone answered. The Clerk’s pencil went through the name.
“White?”
“Here,” replied Lanny as he took his place.