It was very trying to Hugh, and already his muscles began to feel the undue strain keenly.

But he gritted his teeth, and waited, as it would be only a waste of breath and energy to shout before the next runner was close enough up to locate the sound.
Claude was shivering as though he would shake to pieces.

He had received a dreadful fright, for a fact, and it was having its due effect upon his never strong frame.

What would his doting mamma think, and say, Hugh told himself, almost with a chuckle of amusement, could she see her darling then and there, and realize how his very life depended upon the strong muscles and will to do things that Hugh Morgan had developed in himself?
How slowly the seconds passed! Hugh was trying to count, so as to judge when the Marathon runner would be likely to have covered that half-mile, and be at the spot where he, Hugh, had left the road.
When, finally, the time had expired he again spoke to Claude.
"Don't be startled, Claude, because I'm going to shout out.

Hang tight, now!" With that he sent out a whoop, and coupled it with the name of "Just" Smith.