He made faces at him behind his back, and tried to think of all the caddish things he had done since he came to the school.

But it was no good.

As sure as ever Joe tried artfully to cut a corner or "put it on" for a yard or two, Magnus, on ahead, cut a corner and put it on too.
When Magnus presently, having improved his lead, sat down to rest, Joe made sure he had caught his man at last.

But--would you believe it ?-- just as he approached the place, with every show of friendship, announcing that he had something particular to say, Magnus got up and went on again, leaving poor Joe not only still in the rear, but without time even for a rest.
All this astonishing activity, as I said, was the result, not of energy, but of bad temper.

The worse their tempers became the greater the pace, and the greater the pace the nearer the top of that interminable ridge.
Towards the end it was uncommonly like running.