a hand of each. Far up the shining
black asphalt ribbon appeared a group of white dots. The roar grew with
their approach.

Suddenly Penelope leaned forward. "Sara! Sara! Jim! Jim!" she screamed.

Four men were leading the Marathon. A Californian, a Wisconsin man, Jim
and Sara. Sara led, then Jim and the Californian, then the Wisconsin man
with not a foot between any two of them.

Jim was running easier than Sara. He had the advantage of less weight
with the same height. Sara's running pants and jersey were drenched with
sweat. He was running with his mouth dropped open, head back, every
superb line of his body showing under his wet clothes. His tawny hair
gleamed in the sun. No sculptured marble of a Greek runner was ever more
beautiful than Sara as he ran the Marathon.

Jim was running "with his nerves," head forward, teeth clenched, fists
tight to his side, long, lean and lithe. His magnificent head outlined
itself for an instant against the sky line of the Hudson, fine, tense,
like the painting of a Saxon warrior. Pen carried this picture of him in
her heart for years.

The moment the boys had passed, Uncle Denny made a run for the machine.
The three entered the grand stand just as the white dots appeared under
the elevated tracks at 66th street. There was a roar, a fluttering of
banners, a crash of music from a band and a single runner broke from the
group and staggered against the line. Saradokis had won the race.

Jim was not to be seen. Uncle Denny was frantic.

"Where's me boy?" he shouted. "He was fit to finish at the Battery when
he passed us. Give me deck room here. I'm going to find him!"

CHAPTER VI

THE MARATHON

"I have seen a thing that humans call friendship. It is
clearer, higher, less frequent than the thing they call
love."

MUSINGS OF THE ELEPHANT.

At 66th street, Jim had passed the Californian and caught up with Sara.
He held Sara's pace for the next block. Try as he would, the young Greek
could not throw Jim off and instinct told him that Jim had enough
reserve in him to forge ahead in the final spurt at Columbus Circle, six
blocks away.

But at 63rd street something happened. A fire alarm was turned in from a
store in the middle of the block. The police tried to move the crowd
away without interfering with the race, but just as the runners reached
the point of the fire, the crowd broke into the street. A boy darted