“Oh! make sure your shoes are all right, Mr. Merriwell!” he mentally exclaimed. “Lots of good it will do you! I’ve taken no chances on you to-day. I know you’ve found the cut over Ragged Hill, and my two sandbaggers wait for you at the break in the wall. I don’t trust Hollingsworth, for all of his certificate story. You may start, but you’ll never finish.” A whistle sounded. A voice called the runners to come forth. The hour had arrived! Herbert Hollingsworth was waiting. The judges were assembled in the clubhouse. As the runners passed through, Merriwell was spoken to by an official. “Mr. Merriwell, you are the only one who has failed to show a certificate of registration in the A. A. U., according to the requirements. We have been informed this morning that you are not registered.” “The statement is false,” retorted Frank quietly. “Who made it?” “Never mind that. If you have your certificate it will settle the point.” “I have it, but not with me. Will you take my word for it and permit me to show the certificate after the contest?” “Impossible, for you are challenged.” “Then I demand to have the challenger face me.” There was a moment of hesitation, and then Herbert Hollingsworth stood out. “I am the challenger!” he cried. “You’ll ’ave to show your certificate or be barred!” Merry looked him over with an expression of contempt and withering scorn on his handsome face. “You’re a very clever rascal, Hollingsworth,” he said; “but the cleverest rascals sometimes overreach themselves.” “I hobject to such language!” snarled the trainer. “Oh, I haven’t begun to tell you what I think of you!” said Frank. “When the race is over, if you remain, I will, in your presence, tell the judges and the officials of this club all about you and your rascally tricks. I know you were in my room at the Ashport House day before yesterday. You——” “Lies habout me won’t ’elp you!” sneered Hollingsworth. “You’ll ’ave to show your certificate. If you can’t do that, you can henjoy the pleasure of being a spectator.” “Enough of this!” commanded Robert Ashley, in high disapproval. “Mr. Merriwell, like the others, must show his certificate.” “Which he can’t do,” asserted the trainer. Frank turned and called: “Bart! Bart Hodge!” It seemed that Hodge had been waiting for this. “Coming, Frank,” he answered, and pushed into the room. Merry held out his hand. From an inner pocket, Hodge produced a folded paper, which he delivered to his friend. “Here, gentlemen, is my certificate,” said Frank, as he passed it to the judges. The paper was opened and scanned. Herbert Hollingsworth, his face gone pale and wearing an expression of astonishment and perplexity, pressed forward and stared at it. He seemed to doubt the evidence of his eyes. “The certificate is correct,” decided one of the judges. “Mr. Merriwell is eligible, being a regularly enrolled member of the A. A. U.” “I thought it remarkable if he were not,” said Mr. Ashley. Hollingsworth was dazed.