he "events" I could ... when the delegation
came, I welcomed them, with gratified self-importance, to my solitary
room. I invited them in, and they sat about ... on my single chair ...
my bed ... the floor....

"You see, Gregory, if you win two of these races, we'll get the banner
that goes to the class that makes the greatest number of points ... you
must do it for us ... we have never yet won the banner, and this is our
last chance."

They left, solemnly shaking my hand, as over a matter of vast
importance....

Hurrying into my track suit, I went out to the Oval. It was three days
before the meet.

Dunn was there, with several others, measuring out distances and
chalking lanes.

With all the delicate joy of an aesthete I took my slim, spiked running
shoes. I patted them with affection as I pushed my feet into them. I
removed the corks from the shining spikes....

I struck out with long, low-running, greyhound strides ... around and
around ... the wind streamed by me....

I knew I was being watched admiringly. I could see it out of the tail of
my eyes. So I threw forward in a final sprint, that brought me up, my
eyes stinging with the salt of sweat, my legs aching ... my chest
heaving....

"Good boy," complimented Dunn, coming up to me, and patting me on the
back ... Gregory, I'm _for_ you. I'm so glad you've come out a clean,
fine, clear-cut Christian."

* * * * *

For the two-mile, the half, and the mile, each--a single athlete was
training, his heart set on the record. It seemed impossible that I
should win all three races. Yet I did.

I was all nerves and sinews for the two-mile. The night before I had
lain awake. I could not sleep so I read a poor translation of the odes
of Pindar. But behind the bad verbiage of the translator, I fed on the
shining spirit of the poetry. With Pindar's music in me, I was ready for
the two-mile.

* * * * *

Tensely we leaned forward, at the scratch. I had my plan of campaign
evolved. I would leap to the fore, at the crack of the pistol, set a
terrific pace, sprint the first quarter, and then settle into my long,
steady stride, and trust to my good lung power ... for I had paid
special attention to my lung-development, at "Perfection City."

I felt a melting fire of nervousness running through my body, a
weakness.

I bowed my face in my hands and prayed ... both to Christ and to Apollo
... in deadly se