As the contestants came within the last ten yards of the course, Will gathered himself together for one final burst of speed.  His feet seemed scarcely to touch the ground as he darted forward.  But Ogden was not to be outdone, for he too increased the pace at which he was running, and when they touched the line that was stretched across the course, the sophomore was still ahead by a few inches and had come in first in the heat, while Will was second.

Foster was standing near to catch his room-mate, and as he wrapped the bath robe around him, he said:  “It’s all right, Will; you’re in the finals.”

“First two taken?” gasped Will.

“Yes.”

“Hold on.  Let’s hear the time,” said Will, stopping abruptly as the announcer advanced.

“Hundred-yards dash, first heat,” called the senior, “Won by number ten.  Second, number fifteen.  Time, ten and two-fifths seconds.”

“That’s good for the heat, Will,” said Foster warmly.

“I’m not in training,” said Will despondently.

“The others aren’t either, or at least not much.  You had Ogden nearly winded, and when it comes to the finals you’ll do him up,” said Foster encouragingly.

Will did not reply, for the call for the second heat was now made and he was intensely interested in watching Mott’s performance, for his reputation in the college was even greater than Ogden’s.  And if he himself had been beaten by Ogden, what chance would he have against Mott?  The question was not reassuring, but as the five men in the second heat could now be seen taking their positions on the line, it was for the moment ignored, as intensely interested he turned to watch the race that was about to be run.

In a moment the pistol was fired and the five contestants came speeding down the course.  It was soon seen that Mott was leading, but only by a little, though he did not appear to be exerting himself strongly.

“Easy, dead easy!” Will heard a sophomore near him remark, and as he watched Mott’s easy stride he heartily concurred in the opinion.

The runners were nearing the line now, and as Mott drew near he almost stopped for a moment and glanced smilingly behind him at his contestants.  Instantly his nearest competitor darted forward and before the sophomore could recover himself he had touched the string and won the heat, with Mott a close second.  Mott, however, appeared to be in nowise disconcerted and laughingly received the bantering words of his classmates.  He laughed again when the time was announced as ten and four-fifths seconds, and approaching the place where Will and Foster were standing, said: 

“You did well, freshman.  Made better time than I did.”

“I had to, if I kept anywhere near Ogden.”

The other events of the meet were now being run off, and as Peter John Schenck took his place on the line for the half-mile run the uproar became almost tumultuous, and when the freshman apparently took it all in his most serious manner and bowed gravely to the sophomores, evidently appropriating to himself all the noisy demonstrations of delight, the shouts and laughter redoubled.