“Never mind if they run twelve hundred,” said Dick. “We’re bound to be in it, I tell you; it’s our only chance.”
“Birket told me hardly anyone ever runs in it below the Upper Fourth.”
“Can’t help that,” said Dick, decisively; “there’s nothing to prevent us.”
“Oh, of course not,” said Heathcote, who inwardly reflected that there was nothing to prevent their jumping over the moon if they only could.
“You’re game, then?”
“All right,” replied the two pliable ones.
“Hurrah! You know, we may not keep close up all the way, but if we can only run it through it’s all right. By Jove! I am glad I thought of it, aren’t you?”
“Awfully,” they said.
Templeton opened its eyes that evening when it saw the “Firm” solemnly go to bed at half-past seven.
It wasn’t their usual practice to shorten their days in this manner, and it was evident this early retirement meant something.