Down the list they went until all were informed, and then they gradually sifted out, leaving Seever and Shack still with me. I could not understand why they stayed, for they knew well enough that further argument would be useless; but I paid no attention to them, going on with my checking. The "mile handicap" was almost the last event. I crossed out Seever's name, which figured alone at "scratch," saw that Hartman had his twenty-five yards, the same as last year, marked off Root at fifty and Murphy at seventy yards, and then suddenly discovered, just below, the names of G. Turner and N. P. Sawyer with the same allowances. To say I was surprised would but faintly express my feeling, as Turner was a shot and hammer man who had played football, weighed nearly one hundred and ninety pounds, and had never to my knowledge run a yard on a track in his life. N. P. Sawyer was the seldom used patronymic of Shack, who had resumed his seat on the scales in the corner, and was evidently by his air of expectancy waiting for an explosion. I had sent in neither name, and was utterly at sea regarding the whole affair. "Well, Sawyer," said I, turning rather abruptly toward him, "what does this mean?" "Simply this," replied Shack, very frankly, as if he had expected the question and had his answer ready,--"simply this, that I thought we would pay the devil in his own coin, and give Hartman and his fellow-pirates of the 'Rowing Club' a taste of their medicine; let the Dutchman carom against Turner and myself a few times, permit Kitson to enjoy the experience of a tumble like that he gave Fred last year, and carry the latter bit of 'rare porcelain' through the mob without getting chipped." "A very pretty plan," I remarked sarcastically, "but why was I not consulted in the matter?" "Simply because we were doubtful of your consent, and wished to get as far along as possible before we had our little talk with you." "Of course," remarked Seever, "we knew you would have the final word to say, but we thought you would prefer not to have the plan yours, and to be able to say that you did not even send in the entries." "That was certainly very thoughtful of you." "Yes," interposed Shack, "there is a remote chance of a little 'shindy' when the 'Heavy Brigade' gets well started." "If you and Turner are mixed up in it, I should think the chances considerably more than even," I remarked; "but why in the world did two ice-wagons like you and Turner go into it? You can neither of you run a mile in ten minutes."