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Going Some

Creator: Beach, Rex Ellingwood, 1877-1949
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"B--zoo gents! Where's my protege?" "I don't know. Where did you have it last?" "I mean Speed, my trainin' partner. That's a French word." "Oh! We just left him." "Think I'll hunt him up." "Wait a minute." Willie came forward. "Let's talk." "All right. We'll visit. Let her go, professor." "You've been handlin' him for quite a spell, haven't you?" "Sure! It's my trainin' that put him where he is. Ask him if it ain't." "Then he's a good athlete, is he?" "Is he good? Huh!" Glass grunted, expressively. "How fast can he do a hundred yards?"
The Bible, King James version, Book 58: Hebrews

Book 58 Hebrews 58:001:001 God, who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in time past unto the fathers by the prophets, 58:001:002 Hath in these last days spoken unto us by his Son, whom he hath appointed heir of all things, by whom also he made the worlds; 58:001:003 Who being the brightness of his glory, and the express image of his person, and upholding all things by the word of his power, when he had by himself purged our sins, sat down on the right hand of the Majesty on high: 58:001:004 Being made so much better than the angels, as he hath by inheritance obtained a more excellent name than they. 58:001:005 For unto which of the angels said he at any time, Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten thee? And again, I will be to him a Father, and he shall be to me a Son?
Larry yawned as if this conversation bored him. "Oh--about--eight--seconds." At this amazing declaration Willie paused, as if to thoroughly digest it. "Eight seconds!" repeated the little man at length. "Sure! Depends on how he feels, of course." Berkeley Fresno, in the corner, snickered audibly, at which the trainer scowled at him. "Think he can't do it, eh? Well, he's there four ways from the ace." Seeing no evidence that his statement failed to carry conviction in other quarters at least, Glass went further. It was so easy to string these simple-minded people that he could not resist the temptation. "Didn't you never hear about the killin' he made at Saratoga?" he queried. Willie started, and his hand crept slowly backward along his belt. "Killin'! Is that his game?"