The tug-of-war was already forgotten, and good nature reigned again.
Five young men toed the mark, crouching with fingertips to the ground and waiting the starter's revolver-shot.

Three were in their stocking-feet, and the remaining two wore spiked running-shoes.
"Young men's race," Bert read from the program.

"An' only one prize--twenty-five dollars.

See the red-head with the spikes--the one next to the outside.

San Francisco's set on him winning.