Winning His "W": A Story of Freshman Year at CollegeTomlinson, Everett T. (Everett Titsworth)
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Winning His "W": A Story of Freshman Year at College
Tomlinson, Everett T. (Everett Titsworth)
College students -- Juvenile fiction; Sports stories
"Never mind. You'll make a new record to-day."
"That's what I want to do," replied Peter John, sublimely unconscious
that he was being made sport of by the sophomore.
The conversation was interrupted by the call, "All out for the
hundred-yard dash!" and, as Will was to run in the first heat, he drew
off his bath robe and tossing it to Foster, turned at once for the
starting-place. He had already been indulging in a few trials of
starting, but his feeling of confidence was by no means strong as he
glanced at those who were to be his competitors. There were four runners
in his heat, and one of them was Ogden, the sophomore of whose
reputation as a "sprinter" Will already was aware. The other two were
freshmen and therefore unknown quantities, but Will's chief interest was
in Ogden. He could see the knots of muscles in his arms and back and
legs, and his own feeling of confidence was in nowise strengthened by
the sight. Certainly Ogden was a muscular fellow, and a competitor as
dangerous as he was striking in his appearance.
The call, "On your marks," was given, and Will, with the other three,
advanced and took his place on the line. Every nerve in his body seemed
to be tingling with excitement and his heart was beating furiously.
"Get set!" called the starter, and then in a moment there followed the
sharp report of the pistol and the runners were speeding down the
course. Will felt that he had secured a good start, and but a few yards
had been covered when he realized that he and Ogden were running almost
side by side and had left the other two contestants behind them. Nor
were their relative positions changed as they sped on down the track
except that the distance between Will and Ogden and the two freshmen
behind them was steadily increased. Will was dimly aware as he drew near
the line that the entire sophomore body had risen and was noisily
calling to their classmate to increase his speed. There was silence from
the seats occupied by the freshman class, but Will was hardly mindful of
the lack of support. Glancing neither to the right nor the left, he
could almost instinctively feel that Ogden was a few inches in advance
of him and all his efforts were centered upon cutting down the
intervening distance.
As the contestants came within the last ten yards of the course, Will
gathered himself together for one final burst of speed. His feet seemed
scarcely to touch the ground as he darted forward. But Ogden was not to
be outdone, for he too increased the pace at which he was running, and
when they touched the line that was stretched across the course, the
sophomore was still ahead by a few inches and had come in first in the
heat, while Will was second.
Foster was standing near to catch his room-mate, and as he wrapped the
bath robe around him, he said: "It's all right, Will; you're in the
finals."
"First two taken?" gasped Will.
"Yes."
"Hold on. Let's hear the time," said Will, stopping abruptly as the
announcer advanced.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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