Going Some

  CHAPTER XI

  That was a terrible hour for J. Wallingford Speed. As for Larry,once he had grasped the full significance of the telegram, hebecame a different person. Some fierce electric charge wrought achemical alteration in his every fibre; he became a domineering,iron-willed autocrat, obsessed by the one idea of his ownpreservation, and not hesitating to use physical force when forcebecame necessary to lessen his peril.

  Repeatedly Speed folded his arms over his stomach, rocked in thethroes of anguish, and wailed that he was perishing of cramps;the trainer only snorted with derision. When he refused to donthe clothes selected for him, Glass fell upon him like a raginggrizzly.

  "You won't, eh? We'll see!" Then Speed took refuge in anger, butthe other cried:

  "Never mind the hysterics, Bo. You're going to run off someblubber to-day."

  "But I have _to go riding_!"

  "Not a chance!"

  "I tell you I'll run when I come back," maintained the youth,almost tearfully beseeching. "They're waiting for me."

  "Let 'em gallop--you can run alongside."

  "With all these sweaters? I'd have a sunstroke."

  "It's the best thing for you. I never thought of that."

  As Glass forced his protege toward the house, the other youngpeople appeared clad for their excursion; their horses weretethered to the porch. And it was an ideal day for a ride--warm,bright, and inviting. Over to the northward the hills,mysteriously purple, invited exploration; to the south and eastthe golden prairie undulated gently into a hazy realm of infinitepossibilities; the animals themselves turned friendly eyes upontheir riders, champing and whinnying as if eager to bear them outinto the distances.

  "We are ready!" called Jean gayly.

  "What in the world--" Helen paused at sight of the swathedfigure. "Are you cold, Mr. Speed?"

  "Climb on your horses and get a start," panted the burly trainer;"he's goin' to race you ten miles."

  "I'm going to do nothing of the sort. I'm going to--"

  But Glass jerked him violently, crying:

  "And no talkin' to gals, neither. You're trainin'. Now, get amove!"

  Speed halted stubbornly.

  "Hit her up, Wally! G'wan, now--faster! No loafing, Bo, or I'llwallop you!" Nor did he cease until they both paused fromexhaustion. Even then he would not allow his charge to do morethan regain his breath before urging him onward.

  "See here," Wally stormed at last, "what's the use? I can't--"

  "What's the use? That's the use!" Glass pointed to the north,where a lone horseman was watching them from a knoll. "D'you knowwho that is?"

  The rider was small and stoop-shouldered.

  "Willie!"

  "That's who."

  "He's following us!"

  With knees trembling beneath him Speed jogged feebly on down theroad, Glass puffing at his heels.

  When, after covering five miles, they finally returned to theFlying Heart, it was with difficulty that they could drag onefoot after another. Wally Speed was drenched with perspiration,and Glass resembled nothing so much as a steaming pudding;rivulets of sweat ran down his neck, his face was purple, hislips swollen.

  "Y-you'll have--to run alone--this afternoon," panted thetormentor.

  "This afternoon? Haven't I run enough for--one day?" the victimpleaded. "Glass, old man, I--I'm all in, I tell you; I'm ready todie."

  "Got to--fry off some more--leaf-lard," declared the trainer withvulgarity. He lumbered into the cook-house, radiating heat waves,puffing like a traction-engine, while his companion staggered tothe gymnasium, and sank into a chair. A moment later he appearedwith two bottles of beer, one glued to his lips. Both wereevidently ice cold, judging from the fog that covered them.

  Speed rose with a cry.

  "Gee! That looks good!"

  But the other, thrusting him aside without removing the neck ofthe bottle from his lips, gurgled:

  "No booze, Wally! You're trainin'!"

  "But I'm thirsty!" shouted the athlete, laying hands upon thefull bottle, and trying to wrench it free.

  "Have a little sense. If you're thirsty, hit the sink." Glassstill maintained his hold, mumbling indistinctly: "Water's theworst thing in the world. Wait! I'll get you some."

  He stepped into the bunk-room, to return an instant later with acup half full. "Rinse out your mouth, and don't swallow it all."

  "All! There isn't that much. Ugh! It's lukewarm. I want a bucketof ice-water--_ice-water_!"

  "Nothing doing! I won't stand to have your epictetus chilled."

  "My what?"

  "Never mind now. Off with them clothes, and get under thatshower. I guess it'll feel pretty good to-day."

  Speed obeyed instructions sullenly, while his trainer, recliningin the cosey-corner, uncorked the second bottle. From behind theblanket curtains where the barrel stood, the former demanded:

  "What did you mean by saying I'd have to run again thisafternoon?"

  "Starts!" said Glass, shortly.

  "Starts?"

  "Fast work. We been loafing so far; you got to get some ginger."

  "Rats! What's the use?"

  "No use at all. You couldn't outrun a steam-roller, but if youwon't duck out, I've got to do my best. I'd as lief die of agunshot-wound as starve to death in the desert."

  "Do you suppose we _could_ run away?"

  "Could we!" Glass propped himself eagerly upon one elbow. "Leaveit to me."

  "No!" Wally resumed rubbing himself down. "I can't leave withoutlooking like a quitter. Fresno would get her sure."

  "What's the difference if you're astraddle of a cloud with a goldguitar in your lap?"

  "Oh, they won't _kill_ us."

  "I tell you these cow-persons is desp'rate. If you stay here andrun that race next Saturday, she'll tiptoe up on Sunday and put arose in your hand, sure. I can see her now, all in black. Take itfrom me, Wally, we ain't goin' to have no luck in this thing."

  "My dear fellow, the simplest way out of the difficulty is for meto injure myself--"

  "Here!" Glass hopped to his feet and dove through the blankets."None of that! Have a little regard for me. If you go lame it'smy curtain."

  All that day the trainer stayed close to his charge, neverallowing him out of his sight, and when, late in the afternoon,Speed rebelled at the espionage, Glass merely shrugged his fatshoulders. "But I want to be alone--with _her_. Can't yousee?"

  "I can, but I won't. Go as far as you like. I'll close my eyes."

  "Or _I'll_ close them for you!" The lad scowled; hiscompanion laughed mirthlessly.

  "Don't start nothin' like that--I'd ruin you. Gals is bad for aman in trainin' anyhow."

  "I suppose I'm not to see her--"

  "You can _see_ her, but I want to hear what you say to her.No emotion till after this race, Wally."

  "You're an idiot! This whole affair is preposterous--ridiculous."

  "And yet it don't make us laugh, does it?" Glass mocked.

  "If these cowboys make me run that race, they'll be sorry--markmy words, they'll be sorry."

  Speed lighted a cigarette and inhaled deeply, but only once. Theother lunged at him with a cry and snatched it. "Give me thatcigarette!"

  "I've had enough of this foolishness," Wally stormed. "You aredischarged!"

  "I wish I was."

  "You are!"

  "_Not!_"

  "I say you are fired!" Glass stared at him. "Oh, I mean it! Iwon't be bullied."

  "Very well." Glass rose ponderously. "I'll wise up that queen ofyours, Mr. Speed."

  "You aren't going to talk to Miss Blake? Wait!" Speed wiltedmiserably. "She mustn't know. I--I hire you over again."

  "Suit yourself."

  "You see, don't you? My love for Helen is the only serious thingI ever experienced," said the boy. "I--can't lose her. You've gotto help me out."

  And so it was agreed.

  That evening, when the clock struck nine, J. Wallingford Speedwas ready and willing to drag himself off to bed, in spite of theknowledge t
hat Fresno was waiting to take his place in thehammock. He was racked by a thousand pains, his muscles weresore, his back lame. He was consumed by a thirst which Glassstoutly refused to let him quench, and possessed by a fearfullonging for a smoke. When he dozed off, regardless of the snoresfrom the bunk-house adjoining, Berkeley Fresno's musical tenorwas sounding in his ears. And Helen Blake was vaguely surprised.For the first time in their acquaintance Mr. Speed had yawnedopenly in her presence, and she wondered if he were tiring ofher.

  It seemed to Speed that he had barely closed his eyes when hefelt a rough hand shaking him, and heard his trainer's voicecalling, in a half-whisper: "Come on, Cull! Get up!"

  When he turned over it was only to be shaken into completewakefulness.

  "Hurry up, it's daylight!"

  "Where?"

  "Come, now, you got to run five miles before breakfast!"

  Speed sat up with a groan. "If I run five miles," he said, "Iwon't want any breakfast," and laid himself down againgratefully--he was very sore--whereat his companion fairlydragged him out of bed. As yet the room was black, although thewindows were grayed by the first faint streaks of dawn. From theadjoining room came a chorus of distress: snores of every size,volume, and degree of intensity, from the last harrowing gasp ofstrangulation to the bold trumpetings of a bull moose. There werelong drawn sighs, groans of torture, rumbling blasts. Speedshuddered.

  "They sound like a troop of trained sea-lions," said he.

  "Don't wake 'em up. Here!" Glass yawned widely, and tossed abundle of sweaters at his companion.

  "Ugh! These clothes are all wet and cold, and--it feels likeblood!"

  "Nothin' but the mornin' dew."

  "It's perspiration."

  "Well, a little sweat won't hurt you."

  "Nasty word." Speed yawned in turn. "Perspiration! I can't wearwet clothes," and would have crept back into his bed.

  This time Glass deposited him upon a stool beside the table, andthen lighted a candle, by the sickly glare of which he selected apair of running-shoes.

  "Why didn't you leave me alone?" grumbled the younger man. "Theonly pleasure I get is in sleep--I forget things then."

  "Yes," retorted the former, sarcastically, "and you also seem toforget that these are our last days among the living. Saturdaythe big thing comes off."

  "Forget! I dreamed about it!" The boy sighed heavily. It was thehour in which hope reaches its lowest ebb and vitality isweakest. He was very cold and very miserable.

  "You ain't got no edge on me," the other acknowledged,mournfully. "I'm too young to die, and that's a bet."

  Suddenly the pandemonium in the bunk-house was pierced by thebrazen jangle of an alarm-clock, whereat a sleepy voice cried:

  "Cloudy, kill that damn clock!"

  The Indian uttered some indistinguishable epithet, and the nextinstant there came a crash as the offending timepiece was hurledviolently against the wall. In silence Glass shoved his unsteadyvictim ahead of him out into the dawn. In the east the sun wasrising amid a riotous splendor. At any other time, under anyother conditions, Speed could not have restrained his admiration,for the whole world was a glorious sparkling panoply of color.The tumbled masses of the hills were blazing at their crests, thevalleys dark and cool. In the east the limb of the sun was justrearing itself, the air was heady with the scent of growingthings, and so clear that the distances were magically shortened;a certain wild, intoxicating exuberance surcharged the out-of-doors. But to the stiff and wearied Eastern lad it was allcruelly mocking. When he halted listlessly to view its beautieshe was goaded forward, ever forward, faster and faster, untilfinally, amid protests and sighs and complaining joints, he brokeinto a heavy, flat-footed jog-trot that jolted the artistic senseentirely out of him.