“It was better than a circus,” laughed Dick.  “I never saw two more surprised faces in my life.”

“I either,” said Tom.  “I guess they must have thought Bert was champion of some hick village before they consulted us.”

“I could see that was their idea when I offered to run,” grinned Bert; “that’s why I referred them to you.”

“The boys place a lot of importance on the foot race,” said Mr. Melton; “in the other events they’re chiefly competing against each other, but in that they meet the townspeople on common ground, and it means a lot to them to win.  And if the winner comes from their own particular ranch, that makes the victory all the more sweet.”

“Well,” remarked Bert, “if I do run in that race, as it seems very likely I shall, I’ll certainly do my best to win for the ranch.  I don’t suppose there’ll be much competition outside of this ‘ringer,’ anyway.”

“No, I don’t think there’ll be much competition for you,” smiled Mr. Melton, “but just the same there’ll be some pretty fair runners in that race, and they may make you hustle a little at that.”

“I hope they do,” said Bert, “but the only thing I’m going in the race for is to show up that crooked runner.  It’s such fellows as he that give the sport a bad name.  I’ll do everything in my power to discourage it whenever I get the chance.”

“That’s the talk,” encouraged Tom, “go to it, old boy, and show him up.  Besides, it will put you in more solid than ever with the cowboys here.  They’ve got a pretty good idea of you already, I imagine, and this will cinch matters.”

“It will give me an awful black eye if I should happen to get licked,” laughed Bert; “you never seem to think of that side of it.”

“No, we’ll have to admit that we don’t take that into consideration much,” said Dick; “you seem to have such an inveterate habit of winning that we rather take it as a matter of course.”

“I don’t take it as a matter of course, though, not by a long sight,” said Bert; “many a fellow’s got tripped up by being over-confident, and not waking up until it was too late.  I go into anything like that with the idea that if I don’t do my very best I may lose.  And then, if a person does lose a race, that excuse of ‘over-confidence’ doesn’t go a long way, I’ve noticed.”

“No, it’s better to be on the safe side, I guess,” admitted Dick.  “But are you going to train at all for this race?”

“Nothing to speak of,” answered Bert.  “The life we’re living these days keeps a fellow about as fit as he can be, anyway.  I feel as though I could start running at a minute’s notice and give a good account of myself.”

They talked over matters in this fashion until they had discussed the forthcoming event at every angle, and then separated for the night.

From that time on little else was thought or talked of about the ranch.  Even the roping and riding contests were relegated to the background.  News that the Bar Z boys had a promising candidate had been circulated among the neighboring ranches, and there was almost as much excitement rife on them as on Mr. Melton’s.  The cowboys were always questioning Dick and Tom in regard to Bert’s “past performances,” and never tired of hearing his exploits as told by his enthusiastic friends.