work?"

"Tired! Not a bit," said the gallant little soul scornfully.

"Well, all right. It's nice and cool and you can't hurt yourself much.
Now, how many drills do you do after supper as a rule?"

"Down and up twice," said Tim.

"How many drills can you do at your top speed, your very top speed,
remember?"

"About two drills, I guess," replied Tim, after a moment's thought.

"Now, listen to me!" said Cameron impressively. "Go quietly for two and
a half drills, then let yourself out and go your best. And, listen! I
have been watching you this afternoon. You have easily done once and
a half what Perkins has done and you are going to lick him out of his
boots."

Tim gulped a moment or two, looked at his friend with glistening eyes,
but said not a word. For the first two and a half drills Cameron exerted
to the highest degree his conversational powers with the two-fold
purpose of holding back Perkins and Webster and also of so occupying
Tim's mind that he might forget for a time the approaching conflict, the
strain of waiting for which he knew would be exhausting for the lad.
But when the middle of the second last drill had been reached, Tim began
unconsciously to quicken his speed.

"I say, Tim," called Cameron, "come here! Am I getting these spaces too
wide?" Tim came over to his side. "Now, Tim," said Cameron, in a low
voice, "wait a little longer; you can never wear him out. Your only
chance is in speed. Wait till the last drill."

But Tim was not to be held back. Back he went to his place and with a
rush brought his drill up even with Webster, passed him, and in a few
moments like a whirlwind passed Perkins and took the lead.

"Hello, Timmy! where are you going?" asked Perkins, in surprise.

"Home," said Tim proudly, "and I'll tell 'em you're comin'."

"All right, Timmy, my son!" replied Perkins with a laugh, "tell them you
won't need no hot bath; I'm after you."

"Click-click," "Click-click-click" was Tim's only answer. It was a
distinct challenge, and, while not openly breaking into racing speed,
Perkins accepted it.

For some minutes Webster quickened his pace in an attempt to follow the
leaders, but soon gave it up and fell back to help Cameron up with his
drill, remarking, "I ain't no blamed fool. I ain't going to bust myself
for any man. THEY'RE racing, not me."

"Will Tim win?" enquired Cameron.

"Naw! Not this year! Why, Perkins is the best man in the whole country
at turnips. He took the