"Never mind, old chap," he said, "better luck next
time, and you will be fitter too."
Back he ran to the platform, for he must report the dismal news to his
mother, whose chief interest in the programme for the day lay in this
race in which her latest born was to win his spurs. The cheery secretary
was nearly desperate. It was an ominous beginning for the day's sports.
What should he do? He confided his woe to Mack and Cameron, who were
standing close by the platform.
"It will play the very mischief with the programme. It will spoil the
whole day, for Wilbur was the sole Maplehill representative in the three
races; besides, I believe the youngster would have shown up well."
"He would that!" cried Mack heartily. "He was a bird. But is there no
one else from the Hill that could enter?"
"No, no one with a chance of winning, and no fellow likes to go in
simply to be beaten."
"What difference?" said Cameron. "It's all in a day's sport."
"That's so," said Mack. "If I could run myself I would enter. I wonder
if Danny would--"
"Danny!" said the secretary shortly. "You know better than that.
Danny's too shy to appear before this crowd even if he were dead sure of
winning."
"Say, it is too bad!" continued Mack, as the magnitude of the calamity
grew upon him. "Surely we can find some one to make an appearance.
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