Mr. Melton chewed the end of his cigar fiercely, and swore softly to
himself.
But Tom and Dick were not deceived. "The old reprobate's only stalling,"
yelled Dick into Tom's ear, at the same time pounding him frantically on
the back. "He isn't going his limit, by a whole lot. Watch him, now, just
watch----" but his words were drowned in the shrill cowboy yell that
split the air. "Yi, yi, yi!" they shouted, half crazy with excitement.
For Bert, their champion, suddenly seemed to be galvanized into furious
action. He leaped ahead, seeming to dart through the air as though
equipped with wings. Johnson gave a startled glance over his shoulder,
and then exerted himself to the utmost. But he might as well have stood
still as far as any good it did him was concerned. Bert was resolved to
make a decisive finish, and show these doubting Westerners what a son of
the East could do. Over the last hundred yards of the course he exerted
every ounce of strength in him, and the result was as decisive as even
Dick and Tom could desire. Amid a tremendous pandemonium he dashed down
the stretch like a thunderbolt, and breasted the tape sixty feet in
advance of his laboring rival.
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