tured the cup and ever since then succeeding junior classes had
striven mightily.

As always there were favorites, and this year Chub, Roy and a Middle
Class boy named Townsend were considered to have the best chances. Roy
himself was doubtful of his prowess, for, while he could sprint and even
do a quarter of a mile in good time, he had never tried long-distance
running. But Chub gave him a lot of good advice, assured him that he
stood a good chance to win and ended up with: "Anyhow, it's the best
training in the world and will do you a whole lot of good even if you
don't get the cup." So for a week preceding the day of the contest the
countryside was sprinkled with boys panting up the hills, loping
through the woods and trotting doggedly along the frosty road. And at
two o'clock on Thanksgiving Day afternoon thirty-four boys awaited the
word in front of the gymnasium.

CHAPTER X

THE CROSS-COUNTRY RACE

There were boys of all ages between twelve and eighteen in the group
which awaited the word from Horace Burlen. And there were all kinds and
descriptions of costumes. It was a frosty nippy day, cloudy and with
occasional gusts of wind, but nevertheless several of the runners wore
cotton running trunks and short stockings, and the expanse of bare leg
between hose and trunk required lots of rubbing and slapping to keep the
blood in circulation. Others were warmly attired in knickerbockers and
sweaters. Roy had taken Chub's advice in the matter of apparel, and wore
short trousers, woolen stockings, his crimson sweater and a pair of
spiked running shoes. Chub was similarly dressed, as was Jack Rogers and
a number of others. The Juniors had evolved a wonderful plan whereby
certain of their runners were to save themselves until the final turn
toward home and were then to pitch in and beat everything in sight, and
they were gathered in a group plotting excitedly in whispers. Sid Welch
was asking every fellow who would pay attention to him whether he
thought he could last through the race. Sid had worn off eight pounds
during the football season, but had already begun, greatly to his
despair, to put them back again. Chub told him that if he'd run the last
part of the race backwards he might finish--some day. And Jack assured
him that they would see that dinner was kept warm for him.

"I'm going to keep with you fellows," said Sid, "if you don't mind." And
he glanced devotedly toward Roy.

"You honor us," answere