Humorous stories; Love stories; Running races -- Fiction; Western stories
"But he is! That is what makes it so dreadful! If those two men
should meet"--Mrs. Keap buried her face in her hands and
shuddered--"there would be a tragedy, they are both so
frightfully jealous." She began to tremble, and Speed laid a
comforting hand upon her shoulder.
"I think you must be exciting yourself unduly," said he, "Jean's
other friends didn't come. There's nobody due now but Culver Cov--"
"That's who it is!" Roberta raised her pallid face as the young
man fell back.
"Culver! Great Scott! Why, he's engaged--"
"What!"
"Nothing! I--I--" Speed paused, at an utter loss for words. "You
see, he'll discover the truth."
"Does he know you are here?"
"No. I intended to surprise him. I was jealous. I couldn't bear
to think of his being here with other girls--men are so
deceitful! That's why I consented to act as chaperon to Helen.
And now to think that I should have met my fate in Jack Chapin!"
"I see. You want me to break the news to Culver."
"No! no!" Mrs. Keap was aghast. "If he even suspected the truth
he'd become a raging lion. Oh, I've been quite distracted ever
since Jack left!"
"Well, what am I to do? You must have some part laid out for me?"
"I have. A desperate situation demands a desperate remedy. I've
lost all conscience. That's why I agreed to protect you if you'd
protect me."
"Go ahead."
"Culver is your friend."
"We're closer than a chord in G."
"Then you must wire him--"
"I have--"
"--not to come."
"What!" J. Wallingford Speed started as if a wasp had stung him.
"You must wire him at once not to come. I don't care what excuse
you give, but stop him. _Stop_ him!"
Speed reached for a pillar; he felt that the porch was spinning
slowly beneath his feet.
"Oh, see here, now! I can't do that!"
"You promised!" cried Mrs. Keap, fiercely. "I have tried to think
of something to tell him, but I'm too frightened."
"Yes, but--but I--want him here--for this foot-race." Wally
swallowed bravely.
"Foot-race!" stormed the widow, indignantly. "Would you allow an
insignificant thing like a foot-race to wreck a human life? Two
human lives? _Three?_"
"Can't you--wire him?"
Mrs. Keap stamped her foot. "If he dreamed I was here he would
hire a special train. No! It must come from you. You are his best
friend."
"What can I say?" demanded the bewildered Speed, unhappily. "I
don't care what you say, I don't care what you do--only do
_something_, and do it quickly before he has time to leave
Chicago." Then sensing the hesitation in her companion's face:
"Or perhaps you prefer to have Helen know the deceit you have
practiced upon her? And I fancy these cowboys would resent the
joke, don't you? What do you think would happen if they
discovered their champion to be merely a cheerleader with a
trunkful of new clothes, who can't do a single out-door sport--
not one!"
"Wait!" Speed mopped his brow with a red-and-blue silk
handkerchief. "I'll do my best."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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