a cold
climate don't realize how lucky we are. It's the fight with old mother
nature that brings out all that's strong and tough in a man. I guess if
the old Pilgrim Fathers had landed at Vera Cruz instead of on the 'stern
and rock-bound coast' of New England they'd have become lotus eaters
too."

"Well, that's what we're getting to be already," said Bert with a yawn,
"and if I lie here much longer I'll strike my roots into the bank."

"Sure enough," assented Tom, "here we are talking about the laziness of
these fellows, but I don't see that we're wearing any medals for energy."

"Energy," drawled Bert. "Where have I heard that word before. It sounds
familiar, but I wouldn't recognize it if I saw it. I don't believe there
is any such thing south of the Rio Grande."

"Come, wake up," retorted Tom. "Get out of your trance. I'll tell you
what I'll do. Do you see that tree up there? I'll race you to it. That
is, if you give me a handicap."

"Done," said Bert, who could never resist a challenge. "How much do you
want?"

"How about a hundred feet? That oughtn't to be too much for a Marathon
winner to give a dub like me."

"You don't want much, do you?" laughed Bert. "Your nerve hasn't suffered
from the heat. But get your lead and I'll start from scratch."

Tom, quick as a cat, was not to be despised. On more than one occasion
he had circled the bases in fifteen seconds. But he was no match for the
fellow who at the Olympic games had won the Marathon race from the
greatest runners of the world. For a little he seemed to hold his own,
but when Bert once got into his stride--that space-devouring lope that
fairly burned up the ground--it was "all over but the shouting." He
collared Tom fifty feet from the tree and cantered in an easy winner.

Tom had "bellows to mend" and was perspiring profusely, but to Bert it
had simply been an "exercise gallop" and he had never turned a hair.

"Well, you got me all right," admitted Tom disgustedly. "I've got no
license to run with you under any conditions. But at any rate the run
has waked me up. I've lost some of my wind, but I've got back my
self-respect. But now let's go and hunt Dick up. I wonder where he is
anyway."

"Probably stretched out on a couple of seats and taking a snooze,"
guessed Bert. "I'll bet he's lazier even than we are, and that's saying
a good deal."

"Well, let's rout him out," said Tom. "Come along."

But when they reached their