"I--I'm sick. You'll have to."
"Don't be an idiot, Wally. I can't walk!"
Helen explained, with the pride of one displaying her own
handiwork: "Mr. Speed defends the Flying Heart to-morrow. You are
just in time to see him."
"When did you learn to box, Wally?" Covington was genuinely
amazed.
"I'm not going to box. It's a footrace. I'm training--been
training ever since I arrived."
In his first bewilderment the latecomer might have unwittingly
betrayed his friend had not Jean suddenly inquired:
"Where is Roberta?"
"Roberta!" Covington tripped over one of his crutches. "Roberta
who?"
"Why, Roberta Keap, of course! She's chaperoning us while mother
is away."
The hero of countless field-days turned pale, and seemed upon the
point of hobbling back to "Nigger Mike's" buck-board.
"You and she are old friends, I believe?" Helen interposed.
"_Yes!_ Oh yes!" Culver flashed his chum a look of dumb
entreaty, but Speed was staring round-eyed into space, striving
to read the future.
Helen started to fetch her just as the pallid chaperon was
entering the door.
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