that those in the grandstand were enabled to see all that went on.

"Oh! who is it?" cried Cissie Anderson shrilly, as she stood up, everyone
being on tiptoe with excitement.

"Fred Fenton!" shouted Cornelius Shays, apparently taking it for granted
that their favorite athlete would be the first to come in.

"No! no, it can't be Fred, because he was Number Six, and that seems more
like a Seven!" another boy shouted; at which Flo Temple turned really
pale with bitter disappointment, for she had hoped it would be Fred.

"Colon! Hurrah for Colon!" whooped several enthusiastic Riverport
rooters.

"Look again, and perhaps you won't crow so loud!" the saucy girl from
Mechanicsburg exclaimed, her eyes dancing with eagerness. "I've got
pretty good sight, and that looks like a Figure One to me. Besides, I
ought to know how Billie Ackers runs, for he happens to be my own
brother!"

The stranger in town had raised his field-glasses meanwhile, and he
hastened to remark, turning sideways toward Flo Temple and Cissie:

"Yes, that is a Figure One, most assuredly!"

As though the adherents of the up-river school had discovered this
gratifying truth for themselves, wild cheers now began to be heard,
coupled with the Mechanicsburg favorite school song, sung by a glee club
that suddenly sprang into view, waving flags, and throwing up their hats
in enthusiasm.

"It's the Mechanicsburg Wonder!"

"We told you he had their measure taken, didn't we?" shouted Sherley, the
football quarterback.

Boom!

"Another runner has just turned the bend, and see him gaining on Ackers,
would you? Why, what's this I see---that number looks like Eleven, and
didn't Badger of the Pauldings carry that? Will you see him tearing off
the space on your tired-out Wonder? It's good-night to Ackers,
Mechanicsburg!"

"That may be, but where do you fellows here in Riverport come in?"
shrilled the girl from up river whose brother was plainly being beaten.

Boom!

"Oh! there's a third runner in sight, and just see how he is tearing
along like a scared wolf. We ought to know that style, Riverport, and
nobody but Fred Fenton could show such terrific speed at the close of a
twenty-five mile race. That's because he pays more attention to
condition than speed!"

"Will he overtake the other runners before they get to the goal?"
shrieked an almost crazy rooter, as he stood on his seat, and waved both
arms wildly again and again.

Thousands of anxiou