But Trevor held what he had taken, took his pace from Taylor, and with
never a look to right or left, kept doggedly at the other’s heels. The
fourth lap started in a veritable pandemonium. Taylor was now but a
scant ten yards in the lead, and those who saw Trevor’s calm, intent
gaze fastened upon the other boy’s shoulders realized that, barring a
mishap such as had fallen to the lot of Kernan, he would, if he did not
actually win, at least finish so close behind Taylor as to make the
race one of the closest ever witnessed at Hillton, indoors or out.
This time Taylor was on the lookout, and when Trevor spurted was
ready for him and so held his advantage. Trevor was well satisfied,
for he had no wish to pass Taylor at that time, but only to tire and
worry him. His spurt lasted until the line was again crossed. And now
Taylor took the initiative and increased his speed, for, as Trevor had
expected, the short spurts had made him nervous. But shake off his
pursuer he could not, and with the lap half run but five yards lay
between the two.
“He’s a silly chump!” shouted Todd angrily, glaring across at the
speeding senior runner. “Why doesn’t he keep that for the last lap;
can’t he see he’s begun to spurt too early?”
“I have an idea that Trevor Nesbitt’s got him scared,” answered Dick.
“You just bet he has; he’s worried to death!” This from Williams, who
was scowling blackly. “He deserves to lose it.”
“And Nesbitt deserves to win it,” said Dick.
“Humph! You seem to have changed your tune!”
Dick accepted the gibe good-naturedly.
“I have; I think Nesbitt’s the headiest youngster I’ve seen in a long
while, and as for Taylor----”
The bell clanged loudly, announcing the beginning of the last lap, and
every fellow in the balcony was on his feet in the instant. As he took
the first turn Taylor glanced hurriedly back and met the unwavering
and, as it seemed to him, relentless stare of Trevor, and putting every
effort into his work again increased his pace. Everybody was shouting
now, but as the two runners passed under the seniors’ balcony one voice
sounded more loudly than all:
“Good work, Nesbitt!”
And Trevor heard it and recognized Dick Hope’s voice, and for an
instant a smile crossed his face. Then the second incline was under
his feet, and he had to use care lest he trip. But he got safely over,
and now the time for his final effort had come. Into the back-stretch
he sped, and the watchers held their breath, for foot by foot the lost
ground was being eaten up by his flying feet. Then a burst of applause
shook the rafters and Taylor, running despairingly, heard the other
lad’s feet at his side, strove to goad his wearied limbs into faster
strides, and found with dismay at his heart that he had reached his
limit.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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