Hugh guessed as much.  He had already been called to the several times since arriving home after his seven-mile spin.  Once it had been Claude’s mother, begging him to be sure and call at her house early in the morning, because she wanted to have a good, long, earnest talk with him about Claude’s future; and also to let him know how brimful of gratitude a mother’s heart could be toward the brave boy who, at the risk of his own life, had saved her only child for her.

Hugh had promised he would see her, although he expected to be very busy on the morning of the athletic tournament and then expressed the hope that Claude and herself would honor the tournament with their presence.  This she hastily assured him she meant to do, because it was now borne in on her heart that she had been making a terrible mistake in reference to the way she was bringing up her darling Claude.

Needless to say, Hugh had chuckled joyously after that little talk.  He guessed he would have little trouble now in removing the scales Mrs. Jardine had allowed to cover her eyes with regard to the benefits to be derived by any boy, no matter how weak he might be, through a judicious system of athletic exercises, the same to be lengthened as he gradually grew more capable of standing fatigue.

“Hello!” Hugh called.

A voice he immediately recognized as that of Horatio Juggins greeted him.  “That you, Hugh?”

“Just who it is; what’s the matter, Horatio?  Feeling the effects of your little jog this afternoon?  I hope not, for your sake, to-morrow.”

“Oh! come off, Hugh,” the other quickly replied.  “I’d be a fine candidate for a fifteen-mile Marathon race, wouldn’t I, if seven miles knocked me out?  I’m as fit right now as a fiddle.  But Hugh, can you come right over here now?  Something dreadful has happened.”

Hugh had a chilly feeling pass over him.  It seemed as though some sort of bad news was coming.  Had the great meet been called off, for some unknown reason or other?  Somehow that struck him first as a dire possibility, since it would grievously disappoint thousands of eager boys and girls, not to mention many older folks with young hearts.

Now Hugh had intended to take that evening quietly, resting after his strenuous afternoon, and absolutely refuse to allow Thad, or any other fellow, to coax him outside the door.  But already this resolve began to weaken.  That dim mention of some possible tragedy happening started him going.

“Of course I can come over, Horatio,” he told the boy at the other end of the wire; “and I’ll do so right away on condition that it’s no joke.  Tell me what’s up first.”

“Oh!  I meant to do that, Hugh,” his friend hastened to say, and Hugh could detect a tremor to the boyish voice that told of excitement.  “You see, it’s K.K.”

“What’s happened to him?” demanded Hugh, his mind instantly suggesting all manner of terrible possibilities, from a sudden attack of sickness to an accident whereby his life might be in danger; for with boys these things sometimes happen as unexpectedly as a flash of lightning from a clear sky.