Nibs had not once chided his friend for his seeming lack of confidence; he bore it simply, and gave no sign that it produced an effect, unless an occasional weak smile, as when the other became too atrociously insulting, might be taken for such a sign. For there were things that even Jimmy had no knowledge of. He did not dream for instance that, on many a night after Nibs had, with a plea of study, begged off from going "down town," he had dressed himself in a thin undershirt, loose, full breeches and spiked shoes, and wrapped in a bath-robe and crouching in the shadow, had sought the solemn, ghostly cemetery, there to run among the white stones, glistening in the pale light, to his full heart's content. Later, on those same nights, tired out, he had sneaked back to his room unobserved in the silent streets. No, Jimmy did not know of this strenuous course of Nibs' training. He knew his legs were wiry, elastic, to be sure; but _how_ wiry, _how_ elastic, he did not dream. And though deride him he did, in his cheerful confidence and self-assurance, when, on the Monday following their meeting in Nat's low-ceiled bar-room, a particularly venturesome sophomore laid him a wager of five to three on Billy, Jimmy took the shorter end of the bet with amazing alacrity. During the week immediately preceding the day for which the race was set, interest in the event increased with the passage of the hours. Posey's billiard-room on Main Street became the betting-green, where Town met Gown, and Gown flung its challenges into the teeth of Town, which Town at first snarled at, but eventually bit into and clung to tenaciously. Once, during the tempestuous seven days, Nibs encountered Billy face to face. The latter was leaving the president's office; Nibs was approaching the door. As their eyes met, a spark flashed between them, and their faces became hard and set. There were several loiterers in the corridor who witnessed the meeting, and one of these, "Pinkey" Bush--a lawyer in Chicago now,--never tires of recalling the incident. You have but to mention it to him to hear him say, with a brilliant twinkle in his eye: "Gad! It was great! Simply great! There they stood, face to face; Nibsey, long, thin as a lath, glaring down at Billy, who was shorter, but just as gaunt. Their eyes gleamed like new shoe buttons, and their hands were clenched tight at their sides. A second? It seemed an age! They didn't speak; just drilled little wells in each other's eyes with their own--and it was over. The door of the president's office closed upon Nibsey; the big west door rattled shut after Billy. It was like a dissolving view--great, while it lasted, but soon ended. I thought every instant--and held my breath--that one of 'em would shoot out his fist and land it on the other's jaw. No reason, of course; but it wouldn't have surprised any of us who saw the meeting, if one or the other had."