l boys, who are arrayed in ducks and running-shoes, shake hands rather sheepishly with the imposing visitor and look shyly up and down.“And are you running in any of the races, my men?” says Captain Cusack, kindly.He couldn’t have hit on a happier topic. The two are at their ease at once.“Yes, sir, the junior hundred yards. I say, Cusack, your gov — your father’s just in time for the final heat. In the first I had a dead heat with Watkins, you know,” continues he, addressing the captain. “Watkins was scratch, and I had five yards, and the ruck got ten. It was a beastly shame giving Filbert ten, though — wasn’t it, Telson? — after his running second to me in the March gallops; they ought to have stuck him where I was. But I ran him down all the same, and dead-heated it with Watkins, and Telson here was a good second in his heat.”“I was sure of a first, but that young ass Wace fouled me,” puts in Telson.“And now it’s dead-even which of us two wins. We both get five yards on Watkins, and he’ll be pumped with the long jump, and none of the others are hot men, so it’s pretty well between us two, isn’t it, Telson?”“Rather, and I think I back you to do it, Parson, old man,” rejoins the ge
Навигация с клавиатуры: следующая страница - или ,
предыдущая -
