“Hello! Frank!” was the way Lanky greeted his chum, whom he had not seen that day up to the minute they met. “You’re feeling pretty perky, I reckon, Lanky,” remarked the other, smiling as he saw the look of confidence upon the thin face of the tall runner. “Never felt better in my life, Frank; and if I fall down to-day I ought to quit trying the long-distance act. But, Frank, if you happen to run across a messenger boy who looks like he was huntin’ somebody, just remember me; won’t you?” “What’s up?” questioned Frank, laughing at the earnest air of his friend. “Why, you see, I just got a hunch that there might a telegram come for me while the meet was takin’ place,” Lanky explained; “and so I told Conrad at the station that if so be anything came buzzing along the wires, meant for Lanky Wallace, he ought to send a messenger down here on the jump with it.” “And did he promise he would?” asked Frank. “Huh! he just had to,” grunted Lanky. “Why, right now there isn’t a feller in all Columbia that’d dare deny me anything I wanted. Conrad said he’s bound to do it, because he’s been and heard that like as not I’m goin’ to be the one that’ll win the long-distance run; and somehow they all think that, Frank, just because I had that little spurt the other day, you know.” “Well,” said Frank, impressively, “just you see that you have another of the same kind to-day; and make those people from Bellport and Clifford take notice. They’ve made a lot of changes in their runners from last season, and think they’ve got it in for poor old Columbia. That’s the way they talk, Lanky; but some of the boys were here to see you come in Saturday, and _they_ know better.” “Yes, I hear that Coddling, their old pitcher in Bellport, has blossomed out something in the phenom class as a long-distance runner; and I guess, Frank, that we’ll have to keep an eye on that tricky old scout more’n anybody else.” “Don’t be too sure of that. There’s a new fellow up in Clifford that they say never gets tired, and can come in from a ten-mile skip without hardly a hair turned. That may be just talk, or as you say, hot air; but, Lanky, don’t be over-confident. It’s all well enough to be _sure_ you can win; but never let up in your pace because you think you’ve got the thing cinched. A swift runner may dash past you in a second, and after that it’s up to you to get him! because he sets the pace, not you.” “Frank, it’s mighty good of you giving me these pointers, and you going to be a runner in the long race, too.” “Oh! whether I win, or you, or Bones, makes little difference to me, so long as the Columbia purple and gold crosses the line first. That’s what we call school loyalty, you know, Lanky. Of course it’s always fine to be the one to get all the cheer, but first of all the school! But there goes the head man of the committee climbing the band stand. The music’s stopped, so I reckon the games are going to begin pretty quick now.”