The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1906-11-27

extra work he would be stale. Sec
ond, he must be careful of that right
thigh muscle. He had strained it in
the fall as quarterback. And, lastly,
this third necessity being unknown to
the trainer. he must win the hundred
yard dash in the Colwell- Wilton meet
The rivalry between Harwell and
Small had become more than physical.
To win first place in the meet was to
win first place in Alice Summers eyes
at least, this was the conclusion
reached by Harwell
He hurdled the pasture bars into the
meadow 1t was rather wet, and the
smell of bruised eowslips and tender
new sprung mint followed the soft pad
of his sandals AT the sand pits Har
well halted at the sound of his name
shouted at the top of lusty lungs
Small in knckerbockers, was pound
ing away with his geological hammer
at huge bowlder.
''I'll chill if | stopr' called Harwell
merrily- why aren't you running?"
SCOT this bloomin' five-fifths geology
to make up this week"
'"Too badr' shouted Harwell bound
ing with his long strides toward the
far side of the pits.
Small looked after him. then a mali
cious look crossed his eyes. If-if Har-
well should get chilled! He sprang to
his feet
watt Waitr' he roared 81 want
then Great heavensw he cried Then
there was silence
HarweIl did not turn his head at
Small's call He grinned appreciative-
ly to himself. Cant work me that
way" he thought "a chill for me
would be very valuable to Small" and
he crossed the little meadow brook
with a careless bound. Then vague
sense of apprehension entered his mind
Smalrs roar had stopped very sudden
ly. He wondered why. Perhaps he
ought to go back, yet he kept on.
But the sense of apprehension grew
and would not go. Finally, with a lit
tie groan at his own fo0lishness, Har-
well turned and retraced his course to
the sand pits. his stride never break
ing. At the brow of the slope he gave
a startled ejaculation. In springing to
his feet Small had dislodged a great
slice of the sand pit wall. To his arm
pits in sand, with face white and sense
less and the sand creeping constantly
down to sift higher and higher about
him, was Small.
Harwell dashed toward him AS he
ran he snatched up an old tin can half
full of rain water and dashed it in
Smalrs face. Small opened his eyes
Pm suffocating. Harwell," lie said.
oh no, you're not; not by lons
chalk Here take this can and dig tc
beat the band. I'll use this piece OF
shovel, and we'll have you out in
jiffy'
He set to work feverishly The Bit
of shovel proved very efficient welded
by Harwelrs sinewy arm, and the tin
can in SmalPs hands was not to be de
spised. Harwell worked with one eye
on the edge of the pit The sand lay
ers, one by one were loosening. If he
did not get Small free before they fell
well, there was no use in thinking OF
that Now Small was free to his waist
line, now to his thighs, now-silently
swiftly a great wedge of sand gave
way, and Small was again buried to
his shoulders.
Harwell looked about. The pits hat
been so long deserted that there was
not board in sight. Yes, half buried
and black with age, there was one. He
wrench and was back again with the
board. which he placed as bulwark
against further sand slides. Then to
work again with the broken shovel,
feverishly, for Small was growing
I faint and limp.
At last, painting, Harwell helped the
half unconscious Small to his feet.
Then lie was suddenly conscious that
his hands were blistered, that his feet
dragged, that his right thigh muscle
ached. YEARLY. But he put his arm
about Small and led him slowly from
the sand pit down to the turnpike road
that was the straightest course to the
college dormitory. 1t was nearing sun
set. and a damp, cool wind blew from
the marshes. Harwell shiyered, but he
closed his lips firmly and hurried Small
on as best he could.
There was the sound of hoof beats
behind them. The two weary figures
drew to the roadside and waited for
the smart little dogcart to pass them.
But it stopped, and its solitary oc-
cupant gave an exclamation of sur
prise
'9vhat in the world is the matterY
asked Alice Summers.
"Small got caught in the sand pit" re-
piled Harwell, both men staring up in
to the beautiful sensitive face. The
girl gave litse cry of sympathy. "Oh,
get in here. Mr. Small, and I'll drive
you to the doctor"
In a few moments Harwell was
watching the gay painted back of the
trap, now occupied by two figures, re
treating into the dusk.
His lip quivered little sensitively
"They never thought of me-" he NUT
tered. 'Small has got her. and 1--we