king race, after all; for,
just crossing the stake at the finish, he caught a sight of Orton.

The rest of the team saw the same disheartening spectacle. And
MacManus, eager for any excuse to stop running, gasped:

"They've beaten us. There's no use running any farther."

But Tug, having Lakerim ideals in mind, would never say die. He
squandered just breath enough to exclaim:

"We're not beaten till the last man crosses the line!" And he added:
"Stage, run for your life."

And Stage ran. Oh, but it was fine to see that lad run! He fled
forward like a stag with the hounds in full cry after him. He wasted
not an ounce of energy, but ran cleanly and straightly and splendidly.
He had the high-stepping knee-action of a thoroughbred trotter, and
his running was as beautiful as it was swift.

"Run, all of you, for your lives!" cried Tug; and at that the
weary little band sprang forward with a new lease on strength and
determination. Tug had no ambition, like Orton, to leave his men to
find their own way. Rather, he herded them up and urged them on, as a
Scotch collie drives home the sheep at a canter.

Orton's runners were "tailed out" for more than half a mile behind
him. He himself was easily the first man home; but Stage beat his
second man in, and Bloss was a good third. Orton ran back frantically,
now, to coax his last three men. He hurried in his third runner at a
fairly good gait, but before he could get him to the line, Tug had
brought forward his last three men, Sawed-Off well up, MacManus going
doggedly and leaning mentally, if not physically, on Tug, who ran at
his side.

By thus hurling in three men at once, Tug made an enormous inroad upon
the score of the single-man Brownsvillers. Besides, though Orton got
his next-to-the-last man in soon after Tug, the last Brownsviller did
not come along for a minute afterward. He had been left to make his
way along unaided and unguided, and he hardly deserved the laughter
that greeted him as he came over the line.

Thus Orton, too ambitious, had brought his team in with this score: 1,
3, 8, 9, 10--total, 31; while Tug's men, well bunched at the finish,
came in with this score: 2,4, 5, 6, 7-total, 24.

Tug richly deserved the cheers and enthusiasm that greeted his
management; for, in spite of a team of individual inferiority to
the crack Brownsvillers; he had won by strict discipline and clever
generalship.

XXIV

The victorious outcome of the cross-coun