"A grand throw, lad, for a beginner," said Black Duncan.
The excitement now became intense. By his first throw of one hundred and
twenty-one feet two, Mack remained still the winner. But McGee had
only four feet to gain and Black Duncan less than two to equal him.
The little secretary went skipping about aglow with satisfaction
and delight. The day was already famous in the history of Canadian
athletics.
Again McGee took place for his throw, his third and last. The crowd
gathered in as near as they dared. But McGee had done his best for that
day, and his final throw measured only one hundred and five feet.
There remained yet but a single chance to wrest from Mack Murray the
prize for that day, but that chance lay in the hands of Duncan Ross, the
cool and experienced champion of many a hard-fought fight. Again Black
Duncan took the hammer. It was his last throw. He had still fifteen feet
to go to reach his own record, and he had often beaten the throw that
challenged him to-day, but, on the other hand, he had passed through
many a contest where his throw had fallen short of the one he must now
beat to win. A hush fell upon the people as Black Duncan took his place.
Once--twice--and, with ever increasing speed, thrice he swung the great
hammer, then high and far it hurtled through the air.
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