"That's funny," said Stover. "Music soothes me, no matter how bad it is. Last night when we come back from the Centipede Mr. Fresno was singin' Dearie, but I dozed right off in the middle of it. An' it's the same way with cattle. They like it. It's part of a man's duty when he's night-ridin' a herd to pizen the atmosphere with melody."
"What I mean to say is this," Fresno hastened to explain. "We keep late hours at the house, whereas an athlete ought to retire early and arise with the sun. I thought it would be a good scheme to have Mr. Speed sleep out here until the race is over, where he won't be disturbed. Nine o'clock is bedtime for a man in training."
"Oh, I don't think that is at all necessary," said Miss Blake quickly.
"We can't afford to spoil his chances," argued the young man.
"There is too much at stake. Am I right, Mr. Glass?"
Now, like most fat men, Lawrence Glass was fond of his rest, and since his arrival at the Flying Heart his sleeping-hours had been shortened considerably, so for once he agreed with the Californian. "No question about it," said he. "And I'll sleep here with him if you'll put a couple of cots in the place."
"But suppose Mr. Speed won't do it?" questioned Miss Blake.
"You ask him, and he won't refuse," said Jean.
"We don't want to see him defeated," urged Helen's other suitor; at which the girl rose, saying doubtfully:
"Of course I'll do my best, if you think it's really important."
"Thank you," said Stover gratefully, while Fresno congratulated himself upon an easy victory. "I'll ask him at once, but you must come along, Jean, and you too, Mr. Glass."