I'm going into
training, I'm going to talk, eat, sleep, live athletics for a
week, and when I'm unexpectedly crippled on the eve of the race,
it is going to break my heart. Understand! I am going to be so
desperately disappointed that I'll have to choose between suicide
and marriage. The way I feel now, I think I'll choose marriage.
But you must help."
"Leave it to me, Bo!"
"In the first place, I want some training-quarters."
"That's right, don't be a piker."
"And I want you to boost."
"I'm there! When do we begin?"
"Right away. Unpack my running-suit and rub some dirt on it--it's
too new. I think I'll limber up, and let her get a look at the
clothes."
"It's a bright idea; but don't let these animal-trainers see you
run, or the stuff will be cold in a minute."
"Fine! We'll have secret practice! That suits me perfectly."
Speed laughed with joy.
From inside the house came the strains of _Dearie_, sung in
a sympathetic tenor, and upon the conclusion Berkeley Fresno's
voice inquiring:
"Miss Blake, did I ever tell you about the time I sang
_Dearie_ to the mayor's daughter in Walla Walla?"
Miss Blake appeared on the gallery with her musical admirer at
her elbow.
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