Bert Wilson, Marathon Winner

erate

d Dick, and Mr. Hollis insisted that he should stay a week

his practice, and this, combined with the invigorating mountain air, had put him in splendid shape. As he confided to Dick, "if he'd felt any better he'd have been afraid of h

you go. You're fine as silk and trained to the hour. If looks count for anything you could go i

e that fairly ate up space, the dilated nostrils through which he breathed while keeping the mouth firmly closed, the broad chest that rose and fell with no sign of strain or labor-above all, the sense of reserve power that told of reso

s in a class by himself. I'm none too sure of the other even

ld take the measure of any one now known to him as a runner, he couldn't tell but what some "dark horse" would be uncovered at the general meet who would bring all his hopes tumbling about his head li

art in with the real work. We only have a scant two weeks lef

ay of the final meet arrived he was at the top of his form. Neither he nor Reddy would have any exc

earing the badge of famous athletic clubs-all of them in superb condition and all passionately bent on winning. To carry off a trophy in such company was a distinction to be prized. And, in addition to the ordinary incentives, was the international character o

The chances of sickness or accident or change of climate were too many to justify them in depending upon a single competitor to carry the colors of his country in any given struggle. Thus in the pole vaulting, hammer throwing, swimming, hurdling, javelin casting, there would be from three

vilion. The stands were packed with a vast multitude that overflowed on the lawns, while on the inner track groups of contenders indulged in preliminary practice and

eet. Axtell won the standing broad jump and set the mark at eleven feet, two inches. Hinchman was second in the half-mile, and Martin cleared the pole at a height

n distance might well be deferred until the day of the actual race. It was a fair presumption that those who showed up best at the end

tted to the starting line where forty more were gathered. He threw off his sweater, and clad only in his light tunic and running trunks, with a blue sash about his waist,

ause. Then the pistol c

of greeting and encouragement nerved them to the struggle. In a twi

was rather the air of tension, of grim determination, of subtle craftiness that made itself felt as in none of his previous races. Many of these men, especially the members of the athletic clubs, were veterans who had competed at a score of meets, while he was a comparative novice. They kn

nd a quaint saying of Reddy's about pugilists: "The

definable something called "class" made itself felt. Some were faltering in their stride, others laboring heavily for breath. Sometimes the lagga

front. He knew now whom he had to beat. Thornton was at his left, and Brady a little in front. But these did not worry

unded two others, like wolves on the flank of a deer. One of them was an Indian runner from Carlisle, tall and gaunt, with a

dy had "bellows to mend." Bert could hear his breath coming in long, hoarse gasps that told of strength rapidly

trip-hammer and his legs were weary, but his wind was good. He left the Irishman behind him and was pass

n his hands and Reddy danced up and down and said things that the recordin

not seriously hurt, but badly shaken. He looked about

nd the Irishman were two hundred feet in front, while the Indian and he of the

e accident threatened to be fatal to his hopes. The others had gained new life from this unexpected stroke of l

o greater efforts. The Blues roared their delight as they saw their champion start out to overtake the flyers, now so far in front, and even the f

e nervy little Irishman, and a quarter of a mile further on he collared Thornton. Foot by foot he gained on the two others. At the half, he ranged alo

The Blues tried to sing, but in their excitement they could only yell. The crowd went crazy. All were on their feet, bending far over to watch the desperate struggle. On they came to the line, first one, t