il the time came
for staging the Marathon; when they could take their place in the
long string that would await the pistol shot intended to start them
on the telling grind.

Horatio and "Just" Smith were on deck, looking fit and eager. Then,
too, there was Nick Lang, with a grin on his heavy face every time he
glanced toward the other three fellows. It was getting on, and some
of the earlier events had already been carried through, amidst great
roars of applause as the different prizes went, this one to an
Allandale fellow, another to a boy wearing the Belleville High
colors; and three in succession to local lads.

"I don't exactly like the way that Nick Lang keeps on laughing to
himself every time he looks over in this direction," Horatio was
saying to the other two.

"I've noticed the same thing," spoke up "Just" Smith; "and it makes
me wonder if the tricky fellow hasn't got some slick game up his
sleeve, as usual, looking to giving the rest of us trouble. You
notice, don't you, boys, that, look as you will, you can't see
anything of either that Tip Slavin, or Leon Disney. Now, when
fellows who are as fond of outdoor sports as those two have always
been, keep shy when such a great event as this meet is being pulled
off, there must be a pretty good reason."

"They may be somewhere in the crowd," Hugh went on to say, "because
it'd be impossible for any single fellow to identify all that are in
that solid heaving yelling mass of people. Nick believes he has a
fair chance of leading the pack, and that makes him feel happy. I
heard him say only yesterday that the one fellow he was afraid of in
our whole bunch was K. K.; and now that accident has eliminated him,
why, naturally, Nick feels more confidence. In imagination he's
already receiving the grand Marathon prize, and hearing the crowds
yelling themselves hoarse."

"Well," snorted Horatio, gritting his teeth in a way he had when
aroused, "if that's what pleases Nick he's got another guess coming;
for three of us are also in the game; and he's got to do some mighty
tall sprinting in that last half-mile if he expects to win out. Then
there are a lot of other fellows in the run who may give him a pain.
But, according to the programme, our race comes next after this pole
vaulting contest; so, boys, we'd better be moving around, and getting
our place in line, according to our several numbers."

CHAPTER XVIII

THE GREAT MARATHON RACE

It was plainly