Truth to tell, some of them were feeling a little uneasy. Columbia would evidently have need of all her reserve stock of talent this spring in order to come out ahead in the various trials of skill with her bitter rivals. And Lanky was reckoned one of the shining lights in many a contest where agility and power of endurance counted. “Cold feet, nothing!” the tall boy flung back at Jack Comfort. “When that happens you’ll find the moon made of green cheese, boys. Fact is, I’m just a little bothered to-day about somethin’ that’s got nothin’ to do with the athletic meet.” “Been eating some grub that’s given you indigestion, p’raps?” suggested Jonsey. “For goodness sake, Lanky, don’t get out of trim now; we need you the worst way, if we expect to wipe up the ground with those up and down-river fellows,” implored Paul Bird. “That’s just what,” broke in Bones Shadduck; “ever since Lanky got treed by that bull he’s been in the dumps. For once he ran up against somethin’ he couldn’t beat, and it’s made him sore.” The boys laughed, for they had all heard the story to the last particular. “Well, all I know,” remarked Buster Billings, pathetically; “is that Clifford is just boiling over with confidence. I was up there last night to a little spread, and you never heard such talk in your life. Why, they feel dead sure they’re going to walk all over us this time.” “Will they?” observed Jack Eastwick, in his customary sarcastic way, which had long ago become a settled habit with him; “maybe, maybe not. We’ve got some pretty husky specimens right here in old Columbia, and when the time comes we expect to pull down a few of those plums ourselves.” “Bully for you, Jack!” cried Buster, patting the speaker encouragingly. “I reckon I know what ails Lanky!” ventured Jonsey, who had a little bone to pick with the other, and lost no opportunity to give him a sly poke. “Then tell us, or we’ll ride you on a rail!” threatened Jack Comfort. “Dare I, Lanky?” asked Jonsey, not wanting to go too far. “Sure. Just tell everything you know, or think, Jonsey. It won’t take long,” was the answering shot that came back. “Well, the fact of the matter is, Lanky’s best girl’s gone back on him, because I saw her out riding with that new city fellow that came to Columbia a few months ago. He’s as fine a looker as you ever saw, the girls think, and pretty, rose-cheeked Dora Baxter seems to just take to Mr. Walter Ackerman.” Jonsey had kept one eye out for an avenue of escape in case Lanky made a dive in his direction; he also counted on the others to hold the tall boy back, so as to give him a chance to escape; for he never could do it by simply running. But contrary to his expectations, Lanky made no offensive move. On the other hand, he even laughed in a strained way.