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It was a hot dash, and, for some time, the boys were running side by side, neither seeming to have an advantage.
"Wait a bit," panted Emery, at Diamond's side; "you'll soon see Yates spurt and leave Merriwell."
"What do you think Merriwell will be doing while Yates is spurting?"
asked Jack, sarcastically.
"He'll seem to be standing still."
"Will he? Wait and see!"
The rivals were drawing near the station, and still it seemed that they were keeping side by side.
"Now they are spurting!"
Yes, they were spurting for the finish, but, to the amazement of Yates'
friends, a single bound had seemed to carry Frank Merriwell two yards in advance of the other runner, and this advantage Merriwell maintained.
In another moment the station would be reached, and the race must end.
Seeing this, Andy Emery was bitterly grinding out an exclamation of rage and disgust.
Suddenly Yates seemed to trip and fall heavily. He tried to spring up, but seemed to be hurt, and he was struggling to rise when Flemming reached the spot and lifted him to his feet.
"Are you hurt?" asked several, as they gathered around Duncan.
"Not much," he answered, rather thickly; "but I lost the dash by that fall."
"Rats!" muttered Harry Rattleton. "He had lost it before he fell."
"I was ready to make the final spurt, which would have carried me ahead of Merriwell at the finish," declared Yates.
"Oh, it is a case of beastly luck!" growled Andy Emery. "It is the way everything turns in Merriwell's favor. He never wins except it is by cold luck."
"Oh, come off!" chirped Danny Griswold. "You're sore, that's all ails you!"
"Shut up, or I'll wring your neck!"
"You can't catch me, you know," taunted the little fellow, as he skipped out of reach.
On the station platform Merriwell was quietly waiting the arrival of the others, fanning himself with his handkerchief.
It happened that Bruce Browning was at the station, and he had seen the race between the rivals. In his ponderous manner, he hurried to congratulate Frank.
"Yates was a fool to try it!" declared Bruce, his round face seeming to expand into one broad grin. "He might have known what would happen. I see Crockett and Gibbs, two of the committee, with the fellows. They witnessed the whole business, and it must have settled matters in their minds."
"I wish Yates had not fallen," said Frank, with regret.
"He did not fall accidentally, and you can bet your greasy coin on that!
It was plain enough."
"Then you think--just what?"
"That he saw he was beaten, and fell so that he might make a claim that you outran him by accident."
"I had the lead."
"Yes, and he could not have recovered and overtaken you in a week! But that makes no difference. Allee samee, I rather fancy Yates will not fool anybody very much."
The knot of fellows now approached the station, where there was a great throng of Yale lads who had seen the race.
Yates was very pale, but there was a burning light in his eyes. He advanced straight to Frank, and distinctly said:
"Mr. Merriwell, you beat me this time through an accident; but I will run you again, and I'll win."
Frank bowed with the utmost courtesy.
"Mr. Yates," he said, "you will find me willing and ready to run with you any time."
"Whoopee!" squealed Danny Griswold, turning a handspring. "That's business straight from headquarters!"
"Here comes the train!" was the cry.
Then there was a scramble for tickets and for seats on the train.
CHAPTER x.x.xIII.
ENEMIES AT WORK.
It happened that Merriwell and his friends entered the smoker. They found Bink Stubbs curled up in a corner, puffing away at a cigarette.
"You seem to be well fixed, Stubbs," said Frank.
And the little fellow cheerfully returned:
"Oh, I've got a snap, as the bear said when he stepped into the steel trap."
Then room was made for a jolly little party in the corner, and all the fellows who smoked lighted up cigarettes or cigars.
"I've got ten more to put on the game to-day," cried Rattleton, gleefully. "And I took it out of Flemming. That is what pleases me the most."
Jack Diamond smiled.
"It pleases me to say that I pulled a sawbuck out of Emery," he said.
"He squirmed a little, but it was too late to squeal."
"We'll all come back with our clothes stuffed with money," declared Browning. "Yale is sure to win to-day, and that will put lots of fellows on their feet. Some of the boys have soaked everything they could rake together to get money to put on the game, for Heffiner's arm is in great form, and he says he will make monkeys of the Harvard w.i.l.l.i.e.s."