At first they kept well together, but they were
setting a fast pace, and soon one of the men began to lag behind. But
little attention was paid him, for interest was concentrated on Bert,
Johnson and Barnes. Before they were half way around the oval the fourth
man had dropped out, so the race had narrowed down to these three.
Suddenly Bert increased his stride a little, and spurted ahead. A wild
shout went up from the spectators, and those who had not already done
so leaped to their feet. "Wilson! Wilson!" chanted the cowboy contingent,
while the townspeople no less vociferously reiterated the name of their
favorite.
But the "ringer" was not to be shaken off, and he in turn put on a burst
of speed that carried him into the lead. As the runners rounded the
three-quarter mile mark he was still leading, and Barnes was lagging far
to the rear, evidently done for as far as the race was concerned. Chip
had said that Johnson could "move some," and the professional did not
belie his reputation. Apparently, Bert was unable to close up the gap of
nearly a yard that now separated him from his rival, and the yells and
cheers of the citizens redoubled, while those of the cowboys died down.
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