"W-what do you want? Who are you?" "I'm Skinner, cook for the Centipede." "The man I race?" "Not so loud." Skinner was training for the faintest sound from the direction of the mess-house. "I'll kill him!" exulted the Eastern lad. But the other forestalled a murder by running on, rapidly: "Listen, now! Humpy and I jobbed this gang last month; we're pardners, see? He's got another race framed at Pocatello, and I want to make a get-away--" "Yes! yes! y-you needn't stay here--on my account." "Now don't let's take any chances to-morrow, see? We're both out for the coin. What do you want to do--win or lose?" Skinner jumped back to the door and listened. "What?" "Don't stall!" the stranger cried, impatiently. "Will I win or will you? What's it worth?" He clipped his words short, his eyes darted furtive glances here and there. "Can _I_ win?" gasped Speed. "You can if there's enough in it for me. I'm broke, see? You bet five hundred, and we'll cut it two ways." "I-I haven't that much with me." "Borrow it. Don't be a boob. Meet me in Albuquerque Sunday, and we'll split there." "Is that all I have to do?" "Certainly. What's the matter with you, anyhow?" Skinner cast a suspicious glance at his companion. "I-I guess I'm rattled--it's all so sudden." "Of course you'll have to run, fast enough so we don't tip off." "How fast is that?" "Oh, ten-four," carelessly. "That's what Humpy and I did." "Ten and four-fifths-seconds?" "Certainly. Don't kid me! They're liable to break in on us." Skinner stepped to the window, but Speed halted him with a trembling hand and a voice of agony. "Mr. Skinner, I-I can't run that fast. F-fifteen is going some for me." "What!" Skinner stared at his opponent strangely. "That's right. I'm a lemon." "Ain't you the Yale champ? The guy that goes under 'even time'?" Wally shook his head. "I'm his chum. I couldn't catch a cramp." The brown face of the Centipede sprinter split into a grin, his eyes gleamed. "Then I'll win," said he. "I'm the sucker, but I'll make good. Get your money down, and I'll split with you." "No, no! Not you! Me! _I_ must win!" Speed clutched his caller desperately. "All right, I'll frame anything; but I can't run any slower than I did with Joe and make a live of it. They'd shoot us both." "But there's a girl in this-a girl I love. It means more than mere life." Skinner was plainly becoming nervous at the length of the interview. "Couldn't you fall down?" inquired the younger man, timidly. The cook laughed derisively. "I could fall down twice and beat you in fifteen." After an instant's thought: "Say, there's one chance, if we don't run straight away. There's a corral out where we race; you insist on running around it, see? There's nothing in the articles about straight-aways. That'll kid 'em on the time. If I get too far ahead, I'll fall down." "B-but will you stay down? Till I catch up?" "Sure! Leave it to me." "You won't forget, or anything like that?"