"Oh, but I did."
"You wanted him to get here in time to run in your place. I see it all now. You arranged it very cleverly, but you will pay the penalty."
"You surely won't tell Helen?"
"This minute! You wretched, deceitful man!"
Before he could say more, from the front of the house came the rattle of wheels, a loud "Whoa!" then Jean's voice, crying:
"Culver! Culver!" while Mrs. Keap clutched at her bosom and moaned.
Her companion bolted into the house and down the hall, shouting the name of his room-mate. Out through the front door he dashed headlong, in time to behold Fresno and the two girls assisting the new arrival toward the veranda. They were exclaiming in pity, and had their arms about the athlete, for Culver Covington, Intercollegiate One-Hundred-Yard Champion, was hobbling forward upon a pair of crutches.
The yell died in Speed's throat, he felt himself grow deadly faint.
"Crippled!" he gasped, and leaned against the door for support.