that he had forfeited. So far as he could see,
there was only one way that he could justify his existence at Sanford;
that was to win one of the dashes in the Sanford-Raleigh meet. He clung
to that idea with the tenacity of a fanatic.

He had nearly a month in which to train, and train he did as he never
had before. His diet became a matter of the utmost importance; a
rub-down was a holy rite, and the words of Jansen, the coach, divine
gospel. He placed in both of the preliminary meets, but he knew that he
could do better; he wasn't yet in condition.

When the day for the Raleigh-Sanford meet finally came, he did not feel
any of the nervousness that had spelled defeat for him in his freshman
year. He was stonily calm, silently determined. He was going to place in
the hundred and win the two-twenty or die in the attempt. No golden
dreams of breaking records excited him. Calvert of Raleigh was running
the hundred consistently in ten seconds and had been credited with
better time. Hugh had no hopes of defeating him in the hundred, but
there was a chance in the two-twenty. Calvert was a short-distance man,
the shorter the better. Two hundred and twenty yards was a little too
far for him.

Calvert did not look like a runner. He was a good two inches shorter
than Hugh, who lacked nearly that much of six feet. Calvert was heavily
built--a dark, brawny chap, both quick and powerful. Hugh looked at him
and for a moment hated him. Although he did not phrase it so--in fact,
he did not phrase it at all--Calvert was his obstacle in his race for
redemption.

Calvert won the hundred-yard dash in ten seconds flat, breaking the
Sanford-Raleigh record. Hugh, running faster than he ever had in his
life, barely managed to come in second ahead of his team-mate Murphy.
The Sanford men cheered him lustily, but he hardly listened. He _had_ to
win the two-twenty.

At last the runners were called to the starting-line. They danced up and
down the track flexing their muscles. Hugh was tense but more determined
than nervous. Calvert pranced around easily; he seemed entirely
recovered from his great effort in the hundred. Finally the starter
called them to their marks. They tried their spikes in the
starting-holes, scraped them out a bit more, made a few trial dashes,
and finally knelt in line at the command of the starter.

Hugh expected Calvert to lead for the first hundred yards; but the last
hundred, that was where Calvert would weaken.