So Smedley, although it might be to see his own record beaten, came down to the fields that morning.

There was a little uncertainty as to his reception at first, for Railsford's was in an Ishmaelitish mood, and was ready to call everybody an enemy who wasn't on its side.
But when Ainger was heard to say-- "Hurrah! he's a regular brick to come and back us up like this!" everybody jumped to the correct view of Smedley's motives, and cheered him scarcely less enthusiastically than they had just now cheered their "Queen of Love and Beauty." "I only wish he was in his flannels," said Arthur, "and would run the mile against us.

It would be something like to lick him off his own stride." Arthur was rather proud of his athletic slang.

What he meant was that he would sooner see Ainger win the mile against Smedley himself than against Smedley's time.
"Never mind, he's going to be the judge, do you see?
I say, old man, you and I'll have to sit up now." This was the universal effect of the captain's presence.

Perhaps he hardly realised himself what an advantage his presence was conferring on his rivals.
The first event on the programme was the Babies' hundred yards, for which our friends Bateson and Jukes were entered, with the serious record of twenty-two seconds to beat.