into a quick run for a space of twenty feet and more. Kit, not altogether surprised by this manoeuvre—memories of the barn-loft were still with him—was unmoved by it save for an ominous tightening of the lips and a deepening of the red in his cheeks. But poor Morgan, certain of victory, and over-elated by the safe lead he had honestly won, was so confounded by the vision of Wilson passing him that tears of disappointment blinded him, and he ambled from side to side of the track, thus permitting Kit, doggedly plodding on in a straight line, soon to overtake and pass him.
The fourth and fifth boys having fallen behind, the race now lay between Wilson and Kit. The former, jubilant over the advantage he had unlawfully gained, was swinging along with an air of great confidence, his head well up in the air and his eyes straight ahead. The crowd in the grand stand had already awarded the race to him, Kit's followers no less than the others. Judy, sitting behind Annie over among the carriages at the right of the stand, felt her heart beat a little faster than usual at the prospect of Kit's defeat, but not all her fond ambition could shorten that dangerous lead.
Kit alone had not given up. He kept resolutely on, his eyes fixed on Wilson, and every muscle strained to its utmost. He knew that thirty feet this side of the wire there was a treacherous dip in the track. Twice in practice he had encountered it, and in emerging from it the unexpected rise under his feet had thrown him to the ground. Did Wilson know of it too?
Kit based his one final hope on the answer to this query.
And now the forward boy was directly in the line of the pitfall; nearer and nearer, and still he had given no sign of attempting to avoid it. Kit's anxiety was becoming painful. And now Wilson was within half a dozen paces of the spot. Would he go straight
