“You never can tell how things will leak out if some one goes nosing after the facts. I don’t want it even suspected that I obtained an advantage by running the course day after day and making a study of the country so that I could cover it with the greatest speed, avoiding all the bad places and making a number of short cuts, like the one through Dead Timber Jungle. I cut off more than half a mile right there. Then I know a perfect path over Ragged Hill, and I’ll wager more than two-thirds of the runners will skirt the hill. I’ll gain on them there.” “If the truth hever came hout it would ’urt me more than it would you. They would learn ’ow I bribed the man hemployed by Mr. Hashley to lay hout the course and hinduced him to give me a map of it.” “It would be disastrous for us both. I want that trophy, but I don’t want any one to suspect I obtained the slightest advantage over the rest of the contestants, who will see a map of the course for the first time to-morrow.” As may be readily understood, this conversation was proving highly interesting to the young man in the grand stand, who could distinctly hear every word. His eyes flashed as he whispered to himself: “So you have it nicely fixed, my fine rascals! I rather think you’ll make a fizzle of your crooked game after all.” Bart was now well pleased over the result of his efforts. It was quite in opposition to his natural behavior to thus play the eavesdropper; but what he heard in this manner fully justified the ruse and warded off any qualms of conscience that otherwise might have attacked him. He continued to listen, for, believing themselves safe from prying eyes or listening ears, the schemers pursued their conversation. “You will get the trophy, sir,” declared Hollingsworth, growing calmer and once more restoring the eighth letter of the alphabet to its rightful position. “No man from the outside is better than you, and they will not have the advantage of your knowledge. As for the Ashport men, they might do very well on this track; but there’s only one in the lot who will make a great showing cross country.” “You mean Prince, of course?” “No, I don’t mean Prince, sir.” “I thought you regarded him as the star of your runners.” “He is the star in many ways; but there is another I think you have to fear more than Prince.” “Who is it?” “Bramwell.” “Where has he ever made a record?” “He has no record.” “But you think——” “He’s a better man than any one imagines—that is, any one except this Merriwell chap. Hang him! He watched the men from the observatory to-day, and he picked Bramwell out as the best in the lot for cross country, although Prince was there, besides Clyde and Sheldon, both of whom look more like runners.” “How did he happen to select Bramwell?” “I can’t imagine.” “Why do you think Bramwell the most dangerous?” “Because he is a perfect bulldog, sir—he sets his jaws and never lets go.” “An excellent quality in a cross-country man.”