“On your marks.
“Set.”
The pistol cracked. The start was perfect; th five men leaped forward almost exactly together For once Calvert had not beaten the others off th mark, but he immediately drew ahead. He wa running powerfully, his legs rising and falling i] exact rhythm, his spikes tearing into the cinde path. But Hugh and Murphy were pressing hin close. At the end of the first hundred Calvert let by a yard. Hugh pounded on, Murphy falling be hind him. The others were hopelessly outclassed Hugh did not think; he did not hear a thousant men shouting hysterically, “Carver! Carver!’ He saw nothing but Calvert a yard ahead of him He knew nothing but that he had to make up tha yard. Down the track they sped, their bread bursting from them, their hands clenched, thei faces grotesquely distorted, their legs driving then splendidly on.
Hugh was gaining; that yard was closing. H sensed it rather than saw it. He saw nothing now not even Calvert. Blinded with effort, his lung aching, his heart pounding terribly, he fought on mechanically keeping between the two white lines Ten yards from the tape he was almost abreast 0 Calvert. He saw the tape through a red haze; b made a final valiant leap for it—but he never
