Bobby’s squad included Betty—­who had refused to leave her chum—­the Guerin girls (who refused to go to Edentown because it was almost impossible to avoid spending money for little luxuries and for treats), Constance Howard and Dora Estabrooke, a fat girl who was good-nature itself.

“We’ll have to use elimination,” said the teacher when she had her pupils out on the green level that was back of the gymnasium and walled in by tall Lombardy poplars planted closely.  “Let’s see, twelve of you” (for Ada’s squad numbered the same).  “I think we’ll number off first.”

The odd numbers in each squad fell out and were matched, and the even numbers were paired similarly.  Betty’s rival was a near-sighted girl who delayed the next step because Miss Anderson discovered that she was wearing high-heeled shoes.

“I don’t care for those flat things,” volunteered Violet Canby, as she departed lockerward at Miss Anderson’s stern insistence.  “I have a very high instep, and they hurt me.”

Nevertheless, she had to wear them, and the physical instructor put the others through a rigid inspection, but bloomers and sneakers were all properly donned.

“Now,” said Miss Anderson when Violet had returned minus her pumps, “try to remember that it’s just like a spelling match, girls; gradually we’ll narrow down to the two best runners.”

The trial “heats” resulted in leaving Betty, Bobby and Norma of the one squad, and Ada, Ruth and a girl named Edith Harrison, of the other.

Norma was paired with Ruth Royal, and at the signal they got away nicely.  Norma was an excellent runner, and she reached the tape fully three yards ahead of Ruth.  Something in her glowing, happy face, prompted Ruth to resentment.

“Oh, well,” she remarked disdainfully, taking care that her words should carry clearly, “I suppose a farmer’s daughter does a good deal of running after cows—­they ought to be in training.”

Norma flushed scarlet.

“My father is a doctor,” she said hotly.  “I’m not a farmer’s daughter, but I know splendid girls who are—­girls too well-bred to say a thing like that.”

Ruth walked away—­she was out of the finals now—­and Norma went back to the starting place.  She had not recovered her poise when the time came for her to race Bobby, and that young person won easily only to be outdistanced by Betty.

Rather to the latter’s regret, she found herself the opponent of Ada for the deciding race.

“Go it, Betty—­beat her!” whispered Bobby, proud of her chum.  “She and Ruth Royal have dispositions like vinegar barrels!”

Betty had often raced with Bob, and she ran like a boy herself—­head down, elbows held in.  She was running that way, against Ada, when something suddenly shunted her off sideways.  She fell, landing in a little heap.  High and sharp rose the shrill whistle of the starter.

“Are you hurt, Betty?” demanded Miss Anderson, running up to the dazed girl and lifting her to her feet.  “Ada Nansen that was absolutely the most unsportsmanlike trick I ever saw.  You’ve lost the race on a foul.  Betty was clearly winning when you tripped her.”