There were only four entries for the running events, the same names appearing in all; so he could not be kept from the field. But he well knew that various ways existed by which favoritism could be shown, and that these preferences, too trifling in themselves to warrant complaint, might prove a serious handicap in a close contest. He knew that, however honors might lie among the other entries, they would hesitate at nothing to prevent him from taking a place. In fact, Richards openly boasted that he would pocket "'is ludship" at the finish. So Chester shaped his plans accordingly. He had never aimed at the impossible, nor did he now. He withdrew from all short-distance runs and yard dashes, and concentrated his mind upon the Marathon--thus dignified, although the faculty would permit nothing more arduous than two miles. In saying trained, everything is meant that the word can be made to imply: the sort of hour in, hour out, to-the-limit-of-endurance training which either makes or kills. A fortnight before Field Day Chester was in perfect condition, and had his capabilities gauged to a nicety. He was now entered only in the Marathon; they virtually had forced him from the half-mile, and they should be made to pay the penalty. One day before the race Chester went to the bank and inquired the amount of his balance. It was shown him: one hundred and six dollars and some odd cents. He drew a cheque for the amount, and thrust the bills into his pocket. From the bank he walked straight up Main Street for three blocks, then turned in at a well-kept brick house. "Mr. Richards in?" he asked of the servant-girl. "Yes, sir. Right upstairs--second door to the left. He's got company now." The junior nevertheless resolutely mounted the stairs and knocked upon the door. The noise inside resembled a pocket-edition of the Chicago Board of Trade, so Chester hammered again, louder. "Come!" some one yelled, and the noise subsided. He opened the door and stepped inside. A half-dozen young fellows were scattered about, but as he knew none of them, except by name, he ignored their presence and walked directly up to Richards. "I've come on business," he said; "can I speak with you a moment?" "Sure!" Richards removed his feet from a chair, kicking it at the same time toward his visitor. "These fellows know more about my business now than I do myself, so get it off of your chest, Chester." The company laughed, but Chester remained wholly unmoved. "All right," said he, calmly. "You're in the Marathon: want to risk anything on it?" Up went Richards' feet once more, this time to a table. He winked broadly at his friends, and replied with an air of vast carelessness, "Why--yes; I don't mind. Guess I can cover you." "How much?" demanded Chester. "Odds even, mind." "I said I'd cover you, didn't I?" with some warmth. Richards fumbled in his trousers pockets, extracting therefrom a handful of loose change.