It was the recognised training run if you wanted to train
particularly hard. If you did not, you took a shorter spin. At the
milestone nearest the school--it was about half a mile from the
gates--a good number of fellows used to wait to see the first of the
runners and pace their men home. But, as a rule, there were few really
hot finishes in the long run. The man who got to Ledby first generally
kept the advantage, and came in a long way ahead of the field.
On this occasion the close fight Kennedy and Crake had had in the mile
and the half, added to the fact that Kennedy had only to get second
place to give Dencroft's the cup, lent a greater interest to the race
than usual. The crowd at the milestone was double the size of the one
in the previous year, when Milligan had won for the first time. And
when, amidst howls of delight from the School House, the same runner
ran past the stone with his long, effortless stride, before any of the
others were in sight, the crowd settled down breathlessly to watch for
the second man.
Then a yell, to which the other had been nothing, burst from the
School House as a white figure turned the corner. It was Crake.
Waddling rather than running, and breathing in gasps; but still Crake.
He toiled past the crowd at the milestone.
"By Jove, he looks bad," said someone.
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