The Girls of Central High on Track and Field

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The Girls of Central High on Track and Field Page 12

by Gertrude W. Morrison


  CHAPTER XII--THE RACES

  Bobby, as she said, "fished" for this invitation and got it while thegirls were dressing in the gym. building, before the try-out work on thefield that Saturday afternoon. Eve went to her broad jump, while Bobbylined up with a lot of the would-be sprinters from all four classes, totry their speed from the fifty-yard dash up to the quarter-mile.

  Only the very best of the candidates were allowed to try the longerraces, and they had all to go to Dr. Agnew's office first. The doctorspent the most of every Saturday afternoon at the gym. building, and hedoled out good advice to the girls while he prodded them, and listenedto their heart and lung action, and otherwise discovered if they were"fit."

  Laura had been delegated by Mrs. Case to watch the sprinters, and mostof them were quickly sent to the courts to play tennis, or basketball,or some other game, and the cinder track was soon devoted to those onlywho were earnestly endeavoring to develop their speed as runners--andwho had some small chance, at least, to make a good record.

  Bobby tried the first short dash, and then the third. There was somecrowding on the track and she could not do her best--nor did she wishto. As long as she made a good enough showing to be advised to wait forthe finals, she was content, and so was Laura.

  "Hold yourself in," advised Mother Wit, smiling on her. "If you spendyour best wind trying to beat these others at first you'll be lost whenit comes to the quarter-mile, and be retired."

  So Bobby bided her time until the quarter-mile was called. There werebut six contestants. It was the longest trial of speed that Mrs. Casewould allow on the track. The Girls' Branch Athletic League gave but adoubtful approval, at most, to the quarter-mile trial.

  The six were "set" on the line and Laura, watch in hand, waited for thearrow to touch the mark, her hand raised.

  "Go!" she shouted, and the girls sprang away, each doing her very bestfrom the start. For the quarter-mile run leaves little space forjockeying. It is soon over, and the contestant who gets off ahead isquite frequently the winner.

  The six girls were not so unevenly matched; and they started well on aline. For the first few yards they kept together.

  But then the pace began to tell. For fifty yards, say, they were matchedto a degree; then it was plain that only two of them had the "sand" tokeep up that killing pace for long.

  Bobby and one other forged ahead. Breast to breast, their arms workingin unison, their stride equal, the two girls passed ahead of the othersand shot along the track with unabated swiftness.

  The girls behind were panting, and falling back. One wavered and droppedout entirely when she had run but a furlong. The others clung to thetrack, however, doing their very best to record a fair time, at least.They had learned under Mrs. Case to play the game out, no matter howbadly they seemed to be beaten.

  Bobby and the girl with her felt the strain growing, however. Unless therunner is experienced, the dogged perseverance of a close opponent islikely to rattle one at the last moment. As the two came down thestretch and the watching girls began to cheer and "root" for theirfavorite contestant, the runners felt their nerve going.

  A misstep now would cause the loss of the race to one, or to the other.Bobby tried not to see the girls along the track, or to think of the onepounding away beside her.

  She was breathing with comparative ease herself; but the sound of theother girl's breathing pumped in her ears, louder and louder! And howloudly her footbeats were, too!

  Could she only get away from those sounds--leave them behind her--clearthe rushing air about her of those noises!

  There was the line stretched across the track. She knew it was therebecause Laura stood with it in her hand. If she could only breast thatribbon first!

  Somewhere--it seemed to be a cry from the air right over her head--ashrill voice kept repeating:

  "Come on! Come on, Bobs!"

  And Bobby called up that reserve strength that Mrs. Case had talked somuch about in her little lectures to the girls, and sprang ahead of herrival. She was unconscious of the fact that she was ahead. It seemed toher that the other girl was still clinging to her. She could hear thefootsteps and the heavy breathing.

  But suddenly she was aware that it was her own feet spurning the cindersthat she heard--and her own breathing. She was winning!

  And then the tape snapped across her chest and Jess and Eve Sitz, whohad run over to watch the finish of the race, caught her in their arms.

  "Splendid! Bully for you, Bobs!" cried Jess. "Why, there isn't any otherquarter-mile runner in Central High. You take the palm!"

  And not until then did Bob understand that the girl she thought she hadrun so closely was a hallucination. The second runner was yards behindher at the finish!

  They bore Bobby into the gym. building and Mrs. Case insisted upon Dr.Agnew's seeing her again almost immediately. The physician was still inthe building, and he came when called. The physical instructor wasexamining the time card Laura and her assistants had made out. She wouldnot divulge their time to the runners, and the time keepers were swornto secrecy; but everybody knew that Bobby Hargrew had made a goodshowing.

  "There's nothing the matter with that little girl," said the doctor,confidently. "Only, these sudden strains are not valuable. Yes, once, bythe way, is all right. As long as one does not go beyond that reservestrength that your instructor harps upon," and he laughed.

  Bobby was naturally proud over her achievement, for she knew that shehad run a very fast quarter. She was only sorry that she could not knowherself just how fast she was. But that was a secret Mrs. Case kept fromher.

  "The worst possible thing for a runner in training to know is how fast,or how slow, he is," she often declared, "Do your best each time; thatis your business."

  So Bobby got into her street clothes and, having telephoned to herfather as she had promised Eve Sitz, she ran home to pack her bag. Onthe way she passed by the house where Miss Carrington boarded. Gee Geehad two rooms in a wing of the old Boyce house, in which the Widow Boycekept lodgers. Her front room had long, French windows which swungoutward like doors upon the porch. And as Bobby ran by she saw a mancome down from this porch, as though he had been listening at thewindows, and hurry around the corner of the house and behind the thickhedge of the kitchen garden.

  "That was the Gypsy--Jim Varey," Bobby thought, hesitating before thehouse. "What is he haunting Gee Gee for? Ought she to know that he ishanging around?"

  But the girl hesitated about going in and speaking to the teacher. GeeGee, she considered, was really her arch-enemy. Why should she try toshield her from any trouble? And, too, Miss Carrington might not thankher for interfering in her private affairs.

  So Bobby ran on home and told Mrs. Ballister where she was going,huddled a few things into her bag, kissed "the kids," as she termed hersisters, and ran off for the station, there to meet Eve for the 5:14train to Keyport.

  And while she waited who should appear but that black-faced man with thegold hoops in his ears--Jim Varey!

  The Gypsy saw her--Bobby knew he did. But he paid her no attention,slinking into the men's room and not appearing again until Eve arrivedand the two girls went aboard the train. Then Bobby saw him once more.

  "Do you see that fellow, Eve?" she demanded, whispering into the biggergirl's ear.

  "What fellow?"

  "There! he's gone," said Bobby, with a sigh. "I feared he was followingus."

  "Whom do you mean?" queried Eve, rather surprised by her manner.

  "Jim Varey, the Gypsy."

  "Why! is he about?" asked Eve. "You mean the husband of Queen Grace?Well, he's a bad egg, he is! I hope he won't dog us to the house, for hemight learn then where that poor girl is hiding."

  When they were in the car Bobby stuck her head out of the window to lookalong the platform. She did not see Jim Varey in the crowd; but shemight better have kept in her head--for he saw her.

 

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