"No, I never ran it. I'd like to try, though."
"Why don't you? Say, I've got a stop-watch in the house. You wait here and I'll get it and we'll go over to the track and"
"Pshaw, I couldn't run in these clothes!"
"Well, you can take your coat and vest off, can't you? And put on a pair of sneakers? Of course, you can't run as fast, but you can show what you can do. Perry, I'll just bet you anything you've got the making of a fine little sprinter! You wait here; I won't be a minute."
"But it's Sunday, Fudge, and the field will be locked, and—and you've got your lessons"
"They can wait," replied Fudge, dropping to the ground and making off toward the side door. "We'll try the two-twenty, too, Perry!"
He disappeared and a door slammed. Perry frowned in the direction of the house. "Silly chump!" he muttered. Then he smiled. After all, why not? He did want to know if he could run, and, if they could get into the field, which wasn't likely, since it was Sunday and the gates would be locked, it would be rather fun to try it! He wondered just how fast ten and four-fifths seconds was. He wished he hadn't done so much walking since dinner, for he was conscious that his legs were a bit
tired. At that moment in his reflections there came
8
