iting as best they could for the start.

The stand and field filled rapidly until at last, when the gates were
closed, every available space was occupied by a tightly packed, expectant
throng. Suddenly a whistle blew and a few seconds afterward the runners
walked out and proceeded to draw lots for the choice of position. Bert
drew third from the inside rail, Jed Barnes second, and Johnson secured
the best place next to the rail.

"That makes a rather bad handicap for Bert," said Tom anxiously. "I wish
he could have gotten a better position."

"Oh, well, it might be worse," said Dick, but it must be confessed he was
a little worried also. Johnson was a well-built athlete, and seemed to be
in the best of condition. Dick recalled that Bert had not gone through
any special training, and was assailed with misgivings. However, he had
not long to wait. The runners took their places, and the starter raised
his pistol in the air.

"Get set!" he called, and amid a breathless silence the racers crouched
over, their fingers barely touching the ground.

Crack! went the pistol, and amid a roar from the spectators the five
athletes sprang ahead as though released from a catapult. Elbows pressed
against their sides, heads up, they made a thrilling picture, and the
crowd cheered wildly. At first they kept well together, but they were
setting a fast pace, and soon one of the men began to lag behind. But
little attention was paid him, for interest was concentrated on Bert,
Johnson and Barnes. Before they were half way around the oval the fourth
man had dropped out, so the race had narrowed down to these three.

Suddenly Bert increased his stride a little, and spurted ahead. A wild
shout went up from the spectators, and those who had not already done
so leaped to their feet. "Wilson! Wilson!" chanted the cowboy contingent,
while the townspeople no less vociferously reiterated the name of their
favorite.

But the "ringer" was not to be shaken off, and he in turn put on a burst
of speed that carried him into the lead. As the runners rounded the
three-quarter mile mark he was still leading, and Barnes was lagging far
to the rear, evidently done for as far as the race was concerned. Chip
had said that Johnson could "move some," and the professional did not
belie his reputation. Apparently, Bert was unable to close up the gap of
nearly a yard that now separated him from his rival, and the yells and
cheers of the citizens redoubled, while