The Project Gutenberg EBook of Fred Fenton Marathon Runner, by Allen Chapman

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

Title: Fred Fenton Marathon Runner
The Great Race at Riverport School

Author: Allen Chapman

Release Date: September 26, 2009 [EBook #30094]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRED FENTON MARATHON RUNNER ***

Produced by Jim Ludwig

FRED FENTON MARATHON RUNNER

The Great Race at Riverport School

By Allen Chapman

File uses:
_italic_ notation

CONTENTS

CHAPTERS
I. In the Snow
II. The Battle Between Old Rivals
III. Up the Mohunk on an Ice-boat
IV. The Rescue, and a Mystery
V. Looking Over the Course
VI. The Wild Dog Pack
VII. The Short-Cut Way
VIII. The Tell-Tale Pin
IX. At the Toll-Gate
X. Bristles' Surprise Party
XI. On the Green Campus
XII. Laying Plans
XIII. The Muffled Voice
XIV. A Plot That Failed
XV. Clinching Evidence
XVI. Telling Bristles
XVII. Lining Up for the Trial Spin
XVIII. Caught by the Storm
XIX. The Boy in the Haymow
XX. When the Circus Came to Riverport
XXI. The Greatest of Days
XXII. "They're Off!"
XXIII. The Marathon Runners
XXIV. When Duty Called
XXV. The Victory---Conclusion

CHAPTER I

IN THE SNOW

"Now then, let's see who can put a shot through that round hole in the
tree-trunk up there. Take a try, Sid."

"Must be twenty yards away from here, if a foot, eh, Bristles?"

"More like twenty-five to me, Colon; and looks farther than from first
base to third, on the diamond."

"Line up, everybody, and we'll soon find out who takes the cake at making
a center shot. But hadn't we better bar out Fred Fenton?"

"What for, Bristles?"

"Why, because he's the regular pitcher on the Riverside High School nine:
he's used to putting 'em over the plate for a steady diet."

"That's a fact, and Fred, you'll have to consider yourself handicapped in
this little contest of skill."

"Anyhow, wait till we've had our fling, Fred; and then if nobody seems to
get a bull's-eye, you might show us how to do the job."

"All right, boys, that suits me. And while you bombard that poor old
tree, I'll b