"I--I want to speak to you," she began, hesitatingly. "It was just an excuse." Wally looked at her with concern, for it was plain that she was deeply troubled. "What is it?" "I have been trying to get a word alone with you ever since I heard about this foot-race." The young man chilled with apprehension as Mrs. Keap turned her dark eyes upon him searchingly. "Why do you want to run?" "To win back the cowboys' treasure. My heart is touched," he declared, boldly. Mrs. Keap smiled. "I believe the latter, but are you sure you can win?" "Abso-blooming-lutely." "I didn't know you were a sprinter." Speed shrugged his shoulders. "Have you had experience?" "Oceans of it!" Mrs. Keap mused for a moment. "Tell me," said she, finally, "at what intercollegiate game did you run last?" "I didn't run last; I ran first." It was impossible to resent the boy's smile. "Then at what game did you last run? I hope I'm not too curious?" "Oh no, not at all!" Speed stammered. "Or, if it is easier, at what college games did you first run?" Mrs. Keap was laughing openly now. "Why the clear, ringing, rippling laughter?" asked the young man, to cover his confusion. "Because I think it is very funny." "Oh, you do!" Speed took refuge behind an attitude of unbending dignity, but the young widow would have none of it. "I know all about you," said she. "You are a very wonderful person, of course; you are a delightful fellow at a house-party, and a most suitable individual generally, but you are not an athlete, in spite of those beautiful clothes in your trunk." "Who told you?" "Culver Covington." "I didn't know you two were acquainted." Mrs. Keap flushed. "He told me all about you long ago. You wear all the athletic clothes, you know all the talk, you have tried to make the team a dozen times, but you are not even a substitute. You are merely the Varsity cheer-leader. Culver calls you 'the head-yeller.'" "Columbus has discovered our continent!" said Speed. "You are a very wise chaperon, and you must have a corking memory for names, but even a head-yeller is better than a glee-club quarter-back." He nodded toward the bunk-house, whence they had come. "You haven't told anybody?" "Not yet." "'Yet,'" he quoted. "The futurity implied in that word disturbs me. Suppose you and I keep it for a little secret? Secrets are very delightful at house-parties." "Don't you consider your action deceitful?" "Not at all. My motto is 'We strive to please.'" "Think of Helen." "That's it; I can't think of anything else! She's mad about athletics, and I had to do something to stand off this weight- lifting tenor." "Is it any wonder a woman distrusts every man she meets?" mused the chaperon. "Helen might forgive you, I couldn't." "Oh, it's not that bad. I know what I'm doing." "You will cause these cowboys to lose a lot more money." "Not at all. When Culver arrives--" "Oh, that is what I want to talk over with you," Mrs. Keap broke in, nervously.