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"You had me wingin' for a while, but I plugged your game with the cowboys. Pawnee Bill and his Congress of Rough Riders think you're a cyclone." "It's the first chance I ever had to wear that silk running-suit. Who knows, maybe I can run!" "Nix, now! Don't kid yourself too far. This thing is funny enough as it stands." "Oh, I dare say it looks like a joke to you, but it doesn't to me, Larry.
J. Wallingford Speed stepped out of his clothes and into his silken running-suit. He was numb and cold. His hands performed their duties to be sure, but his brain was idle. All he knew was that he had been betrayed and all was lost. He heard Glass panting instructions into his ear, but they made no impression upon him.
Again Speed donned his running-suit and took to the road for his farewell practise. Again Willie followed at a distance on horseback, watching the hills warily. But all hope had fled from the Yale man now, and he returned to his training-quarters disheartened, resigned. He was not resigned, however, to the visit he received later from Miss Helen Blake.
Unpack my running-suit and rub some dirt on it it's too new. I think I'll limber up, and let her get a look at the clothes." "It's a bright idea; but don't let these animal-trainers see you run, or the stuff will be cold in a minute." "Fine! We'll have secret practice! That suits me perfectly." Speed laughed with joy.
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