"
"I-I haven't that much with me."
"Borrow it. Don't be a boob. Meet me in Albuquerque Sunday, and
we'll split there."
"Is that all I have to do?"
"Certainly. What's the matter with you, anyhow?" Skinner cast a
suspicious glance at his companion.
"I-I guess I'm rattled--it's all so sudden."
"Of course you'll have to run, fast enough so we don't tip off."
"How fast is that?"
"Oh, ten-four," carelessly. "That's what Humpy and I did."
"Ten and four-fifths-seconds?"
"Certainly. Don't kid me! They're liable to break in on us."
Skinner stepped to the window, but Speed halted him with a
trembling hand and a voice of agony.
"Mr. Skinner, I-I can't run that fast. F-fifteen is going some
for me."
"What!" Skinner stared at his opponent strangely. "That's right.
I'm a lemon."
"Ain't you the Yale champ? The guy that goes under 'even time'?"
Wally shook his head. "I'm his chum. I couldn't catch a cramp."
The brown face of the Centipede sprinter split into a grin, his
eyes gleamed. "Then I'll win," said he. "I'm the sucker, but I'll
make good.
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