"Or perhaps you prefer to have Helen know the deceit you have practiced upon her? And I fancy these cowboys would resent the joke, don't you? What do you think would happen if they discovered their champion to be merely a cheerleader with a trunkful of new clothes, who can't do a single out-door sport-- not one!" "Wait!" Speed mopped his brow with a red-and-blue silk handkerchief. "I'll do my best." "Then I shall do my part." And Mrs. Keap, who could not bear deception, turned and went indoors while J. Wallingford Speed, a prey to sundry misgivings, stumbled down the steps, his head in a whirl. CHAPTER VII Berkeley Fresno was devoting himself to Miss Blake. "What do you think of our decorations?" she inquired. "They are more or less athletic," he declared. "Was it Mr. Speed's idea?" "Yes. He wanted training-quarters." "It's a joke, isn't it?" "I don't think so. Mr. Fresno, why do you dislike Mr. Speed?" Fresno bent a warm glance upon the questioner. "Don't you know?" Helen shook her head with bland innocence. "Then you _do_ dislike him?" "No, indeed! _I_ like him--he makes me laugh." Helen bridled loyally. "Did you see those medals he wore yesterday?" the young man queried. "Of course, and I thought them beautiful." "How were they inscribed? He wouldn't let me examine them." "Naturally. If I had trophies like that I would guard them too." Fresno nodded, musingly. "I gave mine away." "Oh, are you an athlete?"