"No! no! Don't breathe a word I've said to you. He may be a crackerjack, and I wouldn't do him an injustice for the world. All the same, I wish he hadn't broken my stop-watch." "D'you think he broke it a-purpose?" "What do you think?" Stover mopped the sweat from his brow. "Can't we time him with a ordinary watch?" "Sure. We can take yours. It won't be exact, but--" "I ain't got no watch. I bet mine last night at the Centipede. Willie's got one, though." "Mind you, he may be all right," Fresno repeated, reassuringly; then hearing the object of their discussion approaching with his trainer, the two strolled out through the bunk-room, Stover a prey to a new-born suspicion, Fresno musing to himself that diplomacy was not a lost art. "You're a fine friend, you are!" Speed exploded, when he and Glass were inside the gymnasium. "What made you say 'yes'?" "I had to." "Rot, Larry! You played into Fresno's hands deliberately! Now I've got to spend my evenings in bed while he sits in the hammock and sings _Dearie_." He shook his head gloomily. "Who knows what may happen?" "It will do you good to get some sleep, Wally." "But I don't want to sleep!" cried the exasperated suitor. "I want to make love. Do you think I came all the way from New York to sleep? I can do that at Yale." "Take it from me, Bo, you've got plenty of time to win that dame. Eight hours is a workin' day anywhere." "My dear fellow, the union hours for courting don't begin until 9 P.M. I've got myself into a fine mess, haven't I? Just when Night spreads her sable mantle and Dan Cupid strings up his bow, I must forsake my lady-love and crawl into the hay. Oh, you're a good trainer!" "You'd better can some of this love-talk and think more about foot-racin'."