The half-distance found daylight between Wallace and Smith, and the former pace-maker fell back into fourth place. At the turn Toll began to hit it up. Wallace sped close behind him. Smith came next, some four yards back. Strung out behind Smith were a second blue runner, Tupper, and, dropping back every moment, the last Springdale runner. In that order they came down the straightaway, passed the mark and went doggedly on, to the ringing of the gong announcing the last lap. The stands were shouting confusedly. The leaders passed the two lagging Springdale runners before the turn was begun. As Toll led the way into the backstretch it was evident that he was about done for and a rod or two further along Smith fairly leaped into the lead, taking Wallace by surprise. But the three or four yards which he gained were quickly cut down. Tupper closed in on Wallace but could not pass him, and as the next turn was reached began to fall back.

Smith, with Wallace close on his heels, entered the straightaway, running desperately. Behind him, some ten yards back, came a second Springdale man, and, twenty yards or so behind him, Tupper and a third wearer of the blue were fighting it out. For a moment it seemed that Smith might win, but fifty yards from the tape Wallace uncorked a sprint that swept him past Smith and well into the lead, while the next Springdale runner, head back, challenged Smith for second place and slowly closed up the distance between them. Wallace crossed a good six yards ahead and Smith, running now on pure nerve, saw the second blue adversary edge past him a few feet from the line.

Smith staggered as he crossed and fell limply into the outstretched arms of Skeet. Tupper finished fourth, almost as exhausted, and the others trailed in one by one. The pace had been a fast one, the winner’s time being caught at five minutes, five and one-fifth seconds, and Smith, finishing third, had run the distance well under his best record.

By that time the result of the high-jump was being announced, and Clearfield had won first place and halved third. Felker had cleared the bar at five feet and six inches, a Springdale jumper had secured second place with five feet and five and a half inches and Todd had tied with a Springdale fellow at five-feet-four. A moment later the figures showing the score were changed again. With just half the events decided, Clearfield had 21½ points and Springdale 32½.

CHAPTER XXVI
THE PURPLE PENNANT

It was getting well along toward five o’clock and the sun was sending slanting rays down Brent Field. The two-twenty-dash trials had been run and the final in the low hurdles was just over. In the former Perry, Kirke and Soper had all won places and in the latter Beaton and Peyton had finished first and second and added eight more points to the Clearfield score. The broad-jump and shot-put, too, were over and the Blue had won first and third places in the former and first place in the latter. Partridge had been a good second in the weight event and Brimmer a poor third. In the broad-jump Toby Sears had captured three points. Only the pole-vault, the two-twenty-dash and the hammer-throw remained and the score stood: Clearfield, 36½; Springdale, 44½.

A moment ago the result of the ball game at Springdale had come over the wire and had been announced, and Clearfield was feeling somewhat dejected. Springdale had won, 8 to 2. That and the dismal outlook here at the field had caused the purple banners to droop on their staffs. But there was one purple flag that still flaunted itself bravely in the lengthening rays of sunlight. It hung from the railing of the stand on the third base side of the field, a handsome pennant of royal purple with a wreath of green laurel leaves on it enclosing the letters “C. H. S.” Behind it sat Louise Brent and a bevy of her companions. The girls were in a quandary. Already several Track Team heroes were tied in the number of points gained by them and the task of awarding the pennant promised to be an extremely difficult one. If Guy Felker won the pole-vault, which was possible at the present stage, the matter would be simplified, for he would then have ten points to his credit, two more than anyone else. The girls discussed the difficulty and referred again and again to the score that Louise was keeping, but without finding a way out of the quandary.

“There’s just one thing to do,” said Dick Lovering’s sister, Grace, finally. “It was understood that the pennant was to go to the boy doing the most for the school, wasn’t it?”

The others assented doubtfully. “I suppose that was what was meant,” said Louise, “but I thought we could give it to someone who had made more points than anyone else and that it would be all quite simple. But with three and maybe four fellows making eight——”