“It isn’t Coddling at all!” he called out, as he ran on. “That’s a fact; because he’s dressed in regular clothes; but it’s a boy, and he acts like he was suffering like anything!” Frank went on, slackening his pace just a little as they drew nearer the recumbent figure. Just then the boy who had been lying there like one nearly dead, heard the sound of their voices, likely enough; at any rate, he lifted his head, and seeing them, made a desperate effort to scramble to his feet. The first thing Frank saw was that one of his legs seemed utterly helpless. Then he felt a thrill of horror, for he discovered that blood was trickling down, as though the wound might be most severe. “Wow! it’s Bill Klemm!” burst from Lanky, who had been staring at the pained face of the boy. The fellow immediately stretched out both hands toward the runners, and called to them in a weak voice that quite wrung Frank’s heart. “Fellers, get help fur me, quick! I’ve nigh bled to death. Fell out of a high tree, and broke my leg, I ’spect. Oh! the bone come through, and it keeps on bleedin’ to beat the band! Please don’t leave me like them other fellers did. I’ll die, sure I will. Oh! it’s terrible, the pain! Frank, Lanky, help me!” The two long-distance runners stopped short. The lure of that golden prize was for the moment utterly forgotten by both of them. Here was a boy whom they had never liked, and who was known as the latest scapegrace of the town. Even then he was hiding from justice, fearing punishment because of that fire at the high-school building, which was laid at his door. But for all that he was one of their schoolmates. They had played with him from time to time in the past. And there could be no doubt in the world but that poor Bill Klemm was suffering dreadfully; there was no make-believe about that expression of pain on his dirty face. “We must help him, Frank!” said Lanky, firmly. He wanted to win that race above all things. Glory and victory, together with that fine prize, had been ever before his mind. Then there was his promise to Dora that he would do his very level best to bring the Columbia colors in ahead of all competitors. But above all else Lanky had a heart. He could not pass by, as evidently Parker and Coddling had done, without extending even a word of sympathy to the stricken bad boy of Columbia. Frank had to do some pretty tall thinking just then. He would not desert Bill, but was there any necessity for both of them to give up the run? He could hardly believe that Coddling, at any rate, would have been quite so cold-hearted. Perhaps he had not understood what it really meant. He may even have suspected that some wily Columbia student, hoping to delay the leaders, had gotten himself up in this fashion to play the injured act. All sorts of expedients had been practiced in former long runs, to break in upon the winning spell of the leaders; and clever Coddling was alive to such tricks.