“I presume you’re going to give the rest of us a show here to-day,” laughed one. “You’re not going in for all the honors?” “Hardly,” he answered. “I’m entered for three events, and no more—the broad jump, the high jump, and the pole vault.” “That’s a relief! Let’s see, who are the principal men you’re up against in those things?” “Jack Necker seems to be the jumper they count on.” “Necker? Oh, yes; he’s from Hartford. Well, by George! He’s a corker! And in the pole vault?” “Denton Frost is the representative of this club. They say he is a wonder.” “Yes, I know about him. He’s a good man, too. Here’s hoping you have luck.” Bart Hodge had been wandering around. He came back to Merry after a while. “Manton is here,” he said, in a low tone. “Is he?” “Yes. He’s looking pretty well, too. Shows scarcely a mark.” “Well, I’m looking for no further trouble from him.” “I don’t think he’ll tackle you personally, although I have no doubt that he would enjoy cutting your throat.” A little later Wallace Grafter, accompanied by a thickset, florid-faced, baldheaded man, came upon Merry. “Mr. Merriwell,” he said, “I want you to meet my father.” “Is this the boy ye told me about, son?” cried Reliable Mike, as he grasped Frank’s hand. “Well, it’s a fine-looking lad he is, to be sure. And ye say he has good fighting blood in his veins? He looks clever, but not at all dangerous. I’m proud to know ye, Mr. Merriwell.” “Thank you, Mr. Grafter; I’m very glad to meet you, too.” “Whist now! Do ye think ye can win at the pole vaulting?” “It’s impossible to say. I shall do my best.” “Do. Me boy has a dollar on ye. That chap ye had some trouble with when ye first came here kept after Wallace. He wanted to bet ye wouldn’t win the pole vault. He even offered odds. Betting is bad business for a young man, but Wallace couldn’t stand it, and he took the chap for the limit.” “I’m sorry he bet on me,” said Frank; “but under any circumstances I shall do my level best. I agree with you that betting is bad business for a young man—or an old man, either.” “Aw, it’s not so much harm for us old bucks who have learned the ways of the world. It runs away with the young fellows. If they win, they blow the money. If they lose, they can’t afford it. We’ll watch ye, my lad.” With another hearty shake of Frank’s hand, Reliable Mike drifted along in company with his son. Dick Starbright and Dade Morgan were there, and they enjoyed more or less popularity as the friends of Frank Merriwell. When Merry reached the track he was astonished at the size of the gathering. He had not expected half as many people would be present. The various committees and officials were at work, athletes were moving about over the field, and there was a general air of eagerness. Great numbers of people were present in carriages. They were the relatives of competitors, and the handsome turnouts told that their stations in the world were not humble ones.