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Updated: May 18, 2025
How many more were behind he could not of course guess, nor did he stop to look, for every manly instinct in his body sent him flying out of his shelter towards the hunted man. He must shoot quick, for it was plain the Bushmen were gaining on their quarry. So, shouting with all his might, Halloran ran forward. A couple of hundred yards' sprint and they were within range.
There were no less than a hundred Siwash students behind us, and, though no one but Ole Skjarsen had any interest in us, they were all trying to break the sprint record in our direction, it being the line of least resistance. And, say! We certainly had misjudged the Reverend Ponsonby Diggs. He may have been fat, but how he could run! His work was phenomenal.
Whichever it was, the disaster happened so fast that practically no warning at all was given. And out in the corridor: "Come on, girl sprint!" He put his arm under hers and urged her along. She did her best, but in comparison with his trained performance her best wasn't good. "I've never been checked out on sprinting in spacesuits!" she gasped. "Let go of me and go on ahead. I'll follow "
Molly looked wistfully through the darkness in the direction of the infirmary. "I wish I knew how he was to-night," she added. "I'll go and inquire," cried Judy, leaping to her feet, eager to make amends for past offenses. She glanced at the clock. "The gate isn't locked until a quarter past to-night on account of the late train. There'll be time if I sprint there and back."
"Let's go over and see what that means," proposed Tom. He jumped up, ready to sprint over to the clearing. "If you want advice," Dick offered, "I'd say to wait until the shooting is over. You might stop a stray bullet not intended for us." "But what can the shooting mean" wondered Greg. "When anyone is turning bullets loose," remarked Darry, "I'm not too inquisitive."
As it was, engrossed in his book, he let the moments go by till the sound on the bell startled him into movement. And then there was only time to gather up his cap, and sprint. The paper on which he had intended to write the list and the pen he had laid out to write it with lay untouched on the table.
But even now, although not strictly in training, his outdoor life and clean living had kept him in fine fettle, and he was fit to "run for a man's life." A horse could beat him in a sprint, but there were few mustangs on the ranch that he could not have worn down and beaten in a stretch of twenty miles. It was with no lack of confidence, therefore, that he reached his decision.
Springer longed to quit at this juncture, but, being ashamed to do so, he relaxed his efforts and pitched indifferently, permitting the two following scrubmen to hit the ball. It chanced, however, that neither of these fellows hit safely, both perishing in a desperate sprint for the initial sack. Rodney Grant, jogging in from the field, seated himself beside Springer on the bench.
The group of engineers and officers and naval men appears at the other side of the door and farther off. Then comes a sprint down hill. You descend and stretch your legs. About the field other Tanks are doing their stunts. One is struggling in an apoplectic way in the mud pit with a cheek half buried. It noses its way out and on with an air of animal relief. They are like jokes by Heath Robinson.
When someone of her own sex had introduced herself with lust in her eyes, Gabriele had wanted to sprint a quick exit through the wall but, instead of cowardice, gave her a quick kiss on one of her cheeks and declared, in her giggling, that this would be as far as she would go in that type of liaison.
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