_Chug, chug, chug, chug, chug_, said the big car. And a minute later it was running softly along the road, Arthur at the wheel. It required some manipulation to get the car berthed near the finish line, for Broadwood and Yardley were there in force and resented yielding a foot of ground. Ned finally solved the problem by taking down the bars of a fence and Arthur “parked” the car in somebody’s meadow. There was still some time to wait, for the four-mile course was a fairly difficult one, one part of it, about three-quarters of a mile long, being over the fields. While they waited Arthur, in response to a question from Kendall, explained the conditions of the contest. There were, he said, ten runners on each team, of which the first eight to finish counted in the result. The first man over the line counted one point for his team, the second man two points, the third man three points, and so on, the team scoring the lowest total winning the race. “There isn’t much doubt but that we’ll win,” he said. “The main interest in the race lies in the struggle for first honors. Crossett of Broadwood, Gerald and Sherwood of our team, are out for those. I think Gerald ought to beat Crossett, but whether he can get away from Sherwood is another matter. Goodyear may show up better than he’s been doing, too. He got first place last year. Hiltz may get into the front, too.” “That roommate of yours is running, isn’t he?” asked Ned. “Harry? Yes, he’s in it, but I guess he isn’t very fast yet. I ran myself last year, but I didn’t finish; had a cramp. This year I went in for football instead. Guess I’d better have stayed with the Cross-Country Team; a cramp is better than a sprained knee.” “If Pennimore doesn’t get the captaincy, who will?” asked Kendall. “Holder, probably. He and Gerald are about the only Second Class fellows who have had any experience. Someone’s coming now, I guess. Climb up, Tooker, and take a squint.” “Two of them,” announced Ned, “about a quarter of a mile up the road.” Kendall sprang onto the seat beside him, and eventually Arthur too, forgetting his knee, got to his feet. Far up the road two figures in white shirts and trunks were trotting doggedly toward the finish. They appeared to be quite close together, but who they were was still uncertain. Finally the sunlight gleamed on a blue ribbon across the breast of the leader and the Yardley contingent sent up a shout of delight. Nearer and nearer they came, while three other runners appeared in sight in the distance. Finally, “That’s Gerald!” exclaimed Arthur with relief. “And that’s Goodyear just behind him. First two for us! _Whoopee!_” It was a gallant race to the line, but the younger boy had enough left in him to spurt just before the finish and win from his captain by a good ten or twelve yards. The two runners were surrounded by their shouting friends, and in a minute Gerald, weary but happy, was climbing into the car.