The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1906-08-22
THE EVENING STORY
A Hundred yard Dash.
~ Honore Willsie.l

the greening marsh. Harwen, In his
running pants and jersey, with his
bare legs and sandaled feet. with his
fine head tossed back and the muscles
of his back ripping beneath his Jer-
sey, was as beautiful in his perfection
of youth as the spring landscape
through which he ran.
It was getting a little warm for the
daily cross-country trot. but the
spring meets would be on in another
week, and after that. cap and gown
in exchange for Jersey during COM
mencement week.
Until then Harwell had only three
things to remember. First. he was not
to overdo. He was so near the per-
lection point now that with the least
extra work he would be stale Second,
he must be careful Of that right thigh
muscle. He had strained it in the fall
as quarterback. And, lastly tthis third
necessity being unknown to the train
er) 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 hurdIed the pasture bars into
the meadow. It was rather wet. and
the smell of bruised cowslips and ten
der new-sprung mint followed the soft
pad Of his sandals At the sandpits
Harwell halted at the sound of his
name shouted at the top OF lusty
lungs. Small, in knickerbockers. was
pounding away with his geological
hammer at a huge boulder
''I'n chill if stop" called IIarwell,
merrily. why aren't you running p
Got this bloomin' hve-aftns geo.
logy to make up this week. "
s'Too bad shouted Harwell,
bounding with his long strides toward
-fI - IA
Small looked after him, then a ma
licious look crossed his eyes. Tiff
Harwell should get chilled! He sprang
to his feet.
wait! Waltz" he roared; 81 want
- then "Great heavens!" he cried.
Then there was silence.
Harwell did not turn his head at
SmalIs call He grinned appreciative-
~ 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. Small's roar had stopped very
suddenly. He wondered why. Per-
haps he ought to go back.
Then "Poohi" he murmured- Moth
ing could have happened to him, and
I'll not give him the satisfaction of
having worked me-.
But the sense of apprehension grew
and would not go. Finally, with a 1T
tie groan at his own foolishness, Eiar-
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
senseless and the sand creeping con-
stantly down to sift higher and higher
about him, was Small
HarWel dashed toward him. As he
ran, he snatched up an old tin can,
half full of rain water and dashed it
in Smalls face. Small opened his eyes.
I'm suffocating, Harwe1.'' he said.
ooh, no. you're not; not by a long
chalk. Here, take this can and dig to
beat the band. I'll use this piece OF
shovel and We'll get you out IN a jiffy."
He set to work feverishly. The bit
of shovel proved very efficient, welded
by HarWens sineWy arm, and the tin
can in Small's hands was not to be
despised. Harweu worked with one
eye on the edge of the pit. The sand
layers, 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, great wedge of sand
gave way and Small was again buried
TO his shoulders.
Harwell looked about The pits had
been so long deserted that there was
not board in sight. Yes, half buried
and black with age, there was one. He
pelted across the pit. gave great
wrench and was back again with the
board which he placed as a bulwark
against further sand slides. Then to
work again with the broken shovel.
feverishly, for Small was growing
faint and limp.
At last, painting, Harwel helped the
half unconscious Small to his feet
Then he 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. It was nearing
sunset, and a damp, cool wind blew
from the marshes. Harwell shivered,
but he closed his lips firmly and hur
rled Small on as best he could
There was the sound of hoof beats
behind them. The two weary hgures
drew to the road side and waited for
the smart little dogcart to pass them
But it stopped, and its solitary occu-
pant gave an exclamation or surprise
What in the world is the matter? ?"
asked Alice Summers.
Small got caught in the sand pit,
replied HarweI both men staring up
into the beautiful sensitive face The
girl gave a little cry of sympathy "Oh,
get in here. Mr.. Small, and III drive
you to the doctor"
IN few moments Harwell was
watching the gay painted back of the
trap, now occupied by two figures. re-
treating into the dusk.
His lips quivered a little sensitively.
s'They never thought of me-" he NUT
tered. Small has got her. and I've
got the chill he wanted me to have"
Then he nmped on through the twi-
light toward the dormitory a mile
That evening Harwen sat in the
living room of his fraternity house. |
nursing his aching muscles ami giving /
an occasional sneeze- The hundred yard |
dash was lost; but, since Alice. too, |
was lost, he was strangely indifferen.
Then he was called to the telephone. |
Miss Alice Summers who was staying |
at the hotel with her mother, would be /
glad to have him call.