CHAPTER XXIV
WON AT THE FINISH
Wayne had made a good beginning; he was already, ere the timers’watches had ticked thrice, well in toward the left of the track and oneof the first five men. He looked for Sturgis and found that dreadedyouth close beside him. Before them were Pope, a Maddurn Hall boy, andthe pale-faced youngster who had stood beside Wayne. Pope was makingthe pace, a rather fast one it seemed, and was running with a greatexpenditure of strength. Sturgis kept beside Wayne until the turn;then, as the latter took the inside edge, he fell in behind. Waynewished devoutly that he would go ahead. He didn’t like the pace, whichwas too fast for the first quarter of a mile race, and he would havepreferred to have been farther in the rear. When the back stretchbegan Wayne therefore decreased his speed a little. It had the desiredeffect. In a few seconds Sturgis was beside him again; in a few morehe was a pace or two ahead. Wayne could not but admire the St. Eustaceboy’s running. He kept well up on his toes, his thighs moved seeminglyof their own volition, and his stride was all ease and swing.
At the next turn Sturgis ran close to the inner edge of the track andWayne dropped a pace or two farther back and cast a fleeting glanceover his shoulder. The balance of the contestants were strung prettywell down the back stretch, but Whitehead was about midway betweenfirst man and last. Pope had diminished his pace a little and theWarrenton boy seemed anxious to take his place. Then the group aboutthe start was reached and cheers for the leader from the Collegiatecontingent rent the air; then one after another of the runners receivedhis applause and went by. Wayne caught a momentary glimpse of Paddy andDon beside the track as he began the second quarter.
Save that the last of the runners began to straggle a little, therewas no change in the second quarter. Wayne held his place just behindSturgis and ran on with a steady, easy stride. Again the start wasreached and the race was half run.
“Time enough, Pope!” called a Collegiate coach, and at the same momentWayne saw from the corner of his eye a runner draw slowly up besidehim, hang there a second, and pass ahead. His colors proclaimed hima Collegiate runner and Wayne watched him with interest. By the timethe turn was reached he was slightly behind the Warrenton boy, who wasstill at second place. Then Pope swerved aside, Warrenton was in thelead, with the second Collegiate runner close behind, and Pope haddropped back to a position just ahead of Sturgis. And now Sturgis,too, appeared desirous of falling back, for his pace diminished andthe distance between him and the leader grew. But Wayne refused theinvitation to pass and suited his speed to that of the wearer of theblue.
Half of the third quarter had been left behind when Wayne heard stepsand the sound of breathing beside him again, and in another momentGould had spurted by and Wayne was obliged to swerve slightly in orderto avoid colliding with Sturgis, who upon the appearance of Gould hadagain lessened his speed. Mindful of his orders, but full of doubt,Wayne in turn fell back and Gould passed on and took the inner sidebehind Pope. Sturgis was still back of Wayne, and the latter slowed upyet more, striving to secure again a position behind the St. Eustace’scrack. But Sturgis refused to take the lead. The Maddurn Hall boy wasdropping back fast, and at the middle of the turn Warrenton stillled, followed in order by the two Northern Collegiate runners, Gould,Wayne, and Sturgis. As the home stretch began Gould drew ahead, runningsuperbly, and as the line was crossed he was in the lead by a dozenyards or so, and St. Eustace cheers filled the air.
Then the last quarter began and found Wayne in perplexity. Gould wasevery instant increasing his lead, although Pope and his fellow-runnerhad taken up the chase. Warrenton was clearly out of it, and ere thefirst turn was reached Gould, the two Northern Collegiate runners, andWayne were speeding along in the order named. Wayne was troubled.He asked himself whether, orders or no orders, he should stay backthere when Gould was already thirty yards or more ahead of him andstill spurting. Don and the others had quite evidently overestimatedSturgis’s importance and underestimated Gould’s. And if something wasnot done and done speedily the race was already St. Eustace’s. Asthough to aid him in his decision, Sturgis began to lag until, althoughWayne could not see him, he appeared to that anxious youth to bepractically out of the running.
“Here goes!” said Wayne to himself.
They were on the turn now and he left his place beside the inner edgeand passed Pope and was soon alongside the other Collegiate runner. Thelatter gave him a hard race, but ere the back stretch was reached hadyielded second place, and Wayne dashed on in what seemed a hopelesseffort to reach Gould.
Back at the finish Don pulled his cap over his face and groaned.
“It’s all up; Wayne has fallen into the trap!” One of the Hilltoncoaches said something under his breath, and Professor Beck frownedgrimly.
“But you told him?” asked the coach. “He had his orders?”
“Yes,” answered Don. “But you can see! And I suppose he’s notaltogether to blame; it was so smoothly done.”
The coach ground the turf under his heel. Across the oval, Gould hadalmost reached the last turn, Wayne was some twenty yards behind him,still running like a streak, and back of Wayne sped Sturgis, easily,gracefully, taking his pace from the Hillton runner and covering theground without overexertion or worry. Behind him again streamed therest, Whitehead running side by side with Pope and a Shrewsburg chapvainly trying to pass them. But Gould’s work was done, and at thebeginning of the turn he slowed up, weary and panting, and soon Waynehad passed him, tuckered but happy.
There comes a moment in every long-distance race when the last ounce ofstrength and endurance and the last breath seems to have been expended;after that the runner simply performs the impossible. Wayne had reachedthat moment. His legs ached, his breath tore itself from his lungs, andit seemed that further effort was out of the question. But the finishline was almost in sight, and so he gripped his moist fingers tighterabout the corks and hugged the edge of the cinders. At least, he toldhimself, St. Eustace was beaten!
And then he heard the soft _pat_, _pat_, _pat_, of steps behind him,and at the same instant cries of “St. Eustace! St. Eustace!” Not daringto look behind, he struggled on in an agony of suspense until the turnwas left and the broad path stretched clear and straight before himto the finish, where, strange and distorted to his strained eyes,forms leaped and gesticulated beside the track. Then the pursuer drewalongside and Wayne caught the gleam of deep blue ribbon, and couldhave shouted aloud in rage and mortification had there been breathenough in his body. In a flash he saw it all: Gould’s deceptive spurt,his own blind idiotic credulity, and Sturgis’s pursuit, with him tomake the pace. St. Eustace had tricked him finely! For an instant thethought of yielding presented itself, but only to be routed in the nextbreath by a resolve to keep on, to contest the race to the very end, torun until he dropped.
Sturgis was now a yard in the lead, running well, but he was by nomeans fresh nor unwearied. Wayne gritted his teeth, gulped down a sob,and put every muscle and nerve to the test. He remembered a remark ofDon’s: “When you are ready to drop, just think that the other man isworse off, and keep going.”
“He is, he is!” Wayne told himself. “He’s done up! I can win! I _will_win!”
The tape was close before them now. Sturgis was plainly in distress,for he, too, had made a hard race. The crowd at the finish wasshrieking unintelligible things. Inch by inch the red ribbon waswinning its place beside the blue. Ten yards from the judges Wayne waseven with Sturgis; five yards more and he had gained, but scarcelyenough to be noticed by the throng.
“Hillton’s race! Come on, Gordon, _come on_!”
“St. Eustace wins! St. Eustace! St. Eustace!”
Sturgis threw his head back and strove to draw away, but Wayne, withunseeing eyes, almost reeling, lifted his arms weakly, called upon thelast gasp of breath in his body, and hurled himself forward in a finaldespairing effort. And then the little white tape was gone and he layin a tumbled heap upon the path.
“Hillton first,” announced the judges.
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“Four minutes fifty-eight and four fifths,” said the timekeepers.
Hillton had won the interscholastic.
For the Honor of the School: A Story of School Life and Interscholastic Sport Page 24
