"Danny!" said the secretary shortly. "You know better than that.
Danny's too shy to appear before this crowd even if he were dead sure of winning."
"Say, it is too bad!" continued Mack, as the magnitude of the calamity grew upon him. "Surely we can find some one to make an appearance. What about yourself, Cameron? Did you ever race?"
"Some," said Cameron. "I raced last year at the Athole Games."
Fatty threw himself upon him.
"Cameron, you are my man! Do you want to save your country, and perhaps my life, certainly my reputation? Get out of those frills," touching his kilt, "and I'll get a suit from one of the jumpers for you. Go! Bless your soul, anything you want that's mine you can have! Only hustle for dear life's sake! Go! Go! Go!
Take him away, Mack. We'll get something else on!"
Fatty actually pushed Cameron clear away from the platform and after him big Mack.
"There seems to be no help for it," said Cameron, as they went to the tent together.
"It's awful good of you," replied Mack, "but you can see how hard Fatty takes it, though it is not a bit fair to you."
"Oh, nobody knows me here," said Cameron, "and I don't mind being a victim."
But as Mack saw him get into his jersey and shorts he began to wonder a bit.
"Man, it would be great if you should beat yon Frenchman!" he exclaimed.
"Frenchman?"
"Yes! La Belle. He is that stuck on himself; he thinks he is a winner before he starts."
"It's a good way to think, Mack. Now let us get down into the woods and have a bit of a practise in the 'get away.' How do they start here? With a pistol?"
"No," replied Mack. "We are not so swell. The starter gives the word this way, 'All set? Go!'"
"All right, Mack, you give me the word sharp. I am out of practise and I must get the idea into my head."
"You are great on the idea, I see," replied Mack.
"Right you are, and it is just the same with the hammer, Mack."
"Aye, I have found that out."
For twenty minutes or so Cameron practised his start and at every attempt Mack's confidence grew, so that when he brought his man back to the platform he announced to a group of the girls standing near, "Don't say anything, but I have the winner right here for you."
"Why, Mr. Cameron," cried Isa, "what a wonder you are! What else can you do? You are a piper, a dancer, a hammer-thrower, and now a runner."
"Jack-of-all-trades," laughed Perkins, who, with Mandy, was standing near.
"Yes, but you can't say 'Master of none,'" replied Isa sharply.
"Better wait," said Cameron. "I have entered this race only to save Mr. Freeman from collapse."
"Collapse? Fatty? He couldn't," said Isa with emphasis.
"Lass, I do not know," said Mack gravely. "He looked more hollow than ever I have seen him before."
"Well, we'll all cheer for you, Mr. Cameron, anyway," cried Isa.
"Won't we, girls? Oh, if wishes were wings!"
"Wings?" said Mandy, with a puzzled air. "What for? This is a RACE."
"Didn't you never see a hen run, Mandy?" laughed Perkins.
"Yes, I have, but I tell you Mr. Cameron ain't no hen," replied Mandy angrily. "And more! He's going to win."
"Say, Mandy, that is the talk," said Mack, when the laugh had passed. "Did you hear yon?" he added to Cameron.
Cameron nodded.
"It is a good omen," he said. "I am going to do my best."
"And, by Jingo! if you only had a chance," said Mack, "I believe you would lick them all."
At this Fatty bustled up.
"All ready, eh? Cameron, I shall owe you something for this. La Belle kicked like a steer against your entering at the last minute.
It is against the rules, you know. But he's given in."
Fatty did not explain that he had intimated to La Belle that there was no need for anxiety as far as the "chap from the old country" was concerned; he was there merely to fill up.
But if La Belle's fears were allayed by the secretary's disparaging description of the latest competitor, they sprang full grown into life again when he saw Cameron "all set" for the start, and more especially so when he heard his protest against the Frenchman's method in the "get away."
"I want you to notice," he said firmly to Dr. Kane, who was acting as starter, "that this man gets away WITH the word 'Go' and not AFTER it. It is an old trick, but long ago played out."
Then the Frenchman fell into a rage.
"Eet ees no treeck!" sputtered La Belle. "Eet ees too queeck for him."
"All right!" said Dr. Kane. "You are to start after the word 'Go.'
Remember! Sorry we have no pistol."
Once more the competitors crouched over the scratch.
"All set? Go!"
Like the releasing of a whirlwind the four runners spring from the scratch, La Belle, whose specialty is his "get away," in front, Fullerton and Cameron in second place, Cahill a close third. A blanket would cover them all. A tumult of cheers from the friends of the various runners follows them along their brief course.
"Who is it? Who is it?" cries Mandy breathlessly, clutching Mack by the arm.
"Cameron, I swear!" roars Mack, pushing his way through the crowd to the judges.
"No! No! La Belle! La Belle!" cried the Frenchman's backers from the city. The judges are apparently in dispute.
"I swear it is Cameron!" roars Mack again in their ears, his eyes aflame and his face alight with a fierce and triumphant joy. "It is Cameron I am telling you!"
"Oh, get out, you big bluffer!" cries a thin-faced man, pressing close upon the judges. "It is La Belle by a mile!"
"By a mile, is it?" shouts Mack. "Then go and hunt your man!" and with a swift motion his big hand falls upon the thin face and sweeps it clear out of view, the man bearing it coming to his feet in a white fury some paces away. A second look at Mack, however, calms his rage, and from a distance he continues leaping and yelling "La Belle! La Belle!"
After a few moments' consultation the result is announced.
"A tie for the first place between La Belle and Cameron! Time eleven seconds! The tie will be run off in a few minutes."
In a tumult of triumph big Mack shoulders Cameron through the crowd and carries him off to the dressing tent, where he spends the next ten minutes rubbing his man's legs and chanting his glory.
