Frank Merriwell's Athletes Part 30

"I intended it for a surprise," said Hodge, with a forced laugh.

Frank was not at all pleased. As he was the president of the Combine, he felt that Hodge had not done right in entering for the contest without his knowledge.

At first he thought of refusing to let Bart race, but he quickly banished such an inclination, knowing it might seem that he feared he would be beaten by one of his own club.

"But we'll have a little understanding about this later on," he mentally vowed.

Besides Bart, Frank and Wallace Random, there were three others who had entered for the hurdle race. They were Perkins, of the Southern Union Athletic Club, of Los Angeles; Keeler, of Ventaur, and a Mexican, Pablo Salero, from some unknown place.

The Mexican was a little fellow, while the others were supple and well-built lads.

"Ready, gentlemen!"

It was the voice of the starter.

The six contestants leaned forward, ready to dash away in a moment.

"One!"

Breathless silence.

"Two!"

In a moment they would be off.

"Three!"

Crack! sounded the pistol, and away they darted.

Again Random showed his qualities as a quick starter, but he did not get away from Merriwell, who was equally as quick.

Straight at the first hurdle the six lads dashed. Side by side Merriwell and Random sailed over it, with Hodge scarcely any in the rear.

The spectators cheered and waved hats, handkerchiefs and parasols.

As the third hurdle was cleared Hodge was neck-and-neck with Random and Merriwell. At that moment it seemed as if the three were evenly matched.

Perkins was close behind them, and the Mexican had already fallen to the rear.

Hodge was straining every nerve, and Merriwell was astonished to see him make such a spurt.

"Can he keep it up?" thought Frank. "If so, he is the man I'll have to work hard to beat."

Over the fourth hurdle they sailed, and then it was that Merriwell and Hodge, still keeping side by side, took the lead, Random being pa.s.sed, although he was doing his level best.

But the strain was telling on Bart already. His face was drawn into an expression of agony, and he knew he could not keep up that speed to the finish.

As they cleared the fifth hurdle something happened. Hodge seemed to strike the ground awkwardly, and he plunged against Merriwell.

Down both went.

When they scrambled up, Random was in the lead, and he had secured a decided advantage-an advantage that it was not going to be easy to overcome.

Frank was angry and excited. Like a deer he dashed after Wallace.

Still Hodge kept at his side, doing his utmost.

Six, seven, eight hurdles they cleared, and they were close at Random's heels. Frank felt confident he would be able to win for all of his unfortunate downfall.

"I can do it!" he told himself. "There is a wide s.p.a.ce between the ninth and tenth hurdles, and there is where I'll get ahead of Random."

Never in all his life had he felt more confident of winning any kind of a contest.

When the ninth hurdle was reached Bart had fallen a trifle to the rear, but he leaped nearly at the same moment with Merriwell.

Then a cry came from Bart as his foot struck and he was thrown forward heavily upon his head.

He struck the ground with a sickening thud, and lay still.

In a moment Frank Merriwell stopped, all thought of winning the race being banished from his mind. He was quickly kneeling beside the fallen lad trying to discover how badly Bart was injured.

Hodge was unconscious, so Frank lifted him and bore him from the track, while Wallace Random raced on and won over Perkins by a wide margin.

Bart was carried into the shade of a large tree, where a physician began to work over him. The physician could not discover that any bones were broken, and he believed Hodge had been stunned by the fall.

This proved true, for Bart was restored to consciousness after a short time, and the first person he saw was Frank close at his side, watching him with the greatest anxiety.

Bart reached out and grasped Merry's hand, saying feebly:

"It was an accident, old fellow-I swear it was! Don't think I tried to make you lose the race! No one could induce me to do that, no matter how much they begged me to, Frank! You do not think I did it purposely, do you?"

"No," said Frank, "I do not think so, Bart."

"I am glad!" whispered Hodge, thankfully.

Soon the tournament was over, and Santa Barbara was well satisfied, having carried off her share of the honors.

That night there was another hop at the most fas.h.i.+onable hotel of the town.

Frank appeared rather late, and from a place where he could not be seen himself, he watched the dancers.

He was surprised to discover that Inza was not dancing, although she was present. As he watched he saw her refuse several who asked her to dance.

Lord Stanford was given the cold shoulder in a very decisive manner, but there were numberless other girls who were more than glad to dance with him.

He entered the room intending to grasp an opportunity to speak with her.

The moment he appeared Inza retreated toward the other end of the room.