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10 - The Box Car Children - Gertrude Warner · Adventure Books Collection

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  Chapter ten, The race. The Cordyce steel mills stood a little aside from
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  the city of Greenfield, as if they were a little too good to associate
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  with common factories. James Henry Cordyce sat in a huge leather chair in his
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  private office. He was a man nearly sixty years of age, whose dark
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  brown hair was still untouched by gray. He had rather hard lines about his
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  mouth, but softer ones around his eyes. Printed on the ground glass top
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  of his door were these words in black and gold, J. H.
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  Cordyce, President Private. Once a year J. H. Cordyce allowed himself
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  a holiday if he had a weakness. It was for healthy boys, boys
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  running without their hats, boys jumping, boys, throwing rings, boys swimming,
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  boy's vaulting with a long pole. And in company with three other extremely
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  rich men, he arranged once a year a field day for the town of
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  Intervale. The men attended it in person and supplied all the money. This
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  was field day. All through the spring and early summer months. Boys were
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  in training for miles around getting ready for Intervale's field day. And not only
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  boys, but men also old and young, and girls of all ages into
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  the bargain Prizes were offered for tennis, baseball, rowing, swimming, running,
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  and every imaginable type of athletic feet, but usually the interest of the
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  day centered on a free for all race of one mile, which every one
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  enjoyed and a great many people entered. A prize of twenty five dollars was
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  offered to the winner of this race, and also a silver trophy cup with
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  little wings on its handles. Sometimes this cup was won by a middle aged
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  man, sometimes by a girl, and sometimes by a trained athlete. Mister
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  Cordyce smiled about his eyes as he closed his desk, ordered his limousine,
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  and went out and locked the door of his office. The mill had been
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  closed down for the day everyone attended field day. Henry was washing the concrete
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  drives at doctor mc allister's at this moment. He heard the doctor call to
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  him from the road, so he promptly turned off the hose and ran out
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  to see what was wanted. Hop In commanded the doctor, not stopping his
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  engine, you ought to go to see the stunts at the athletic meet.
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  It's field day. Henry did not wish to delay the doctor, so he
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  hopped in. Can't go myself, said doctor mc allister. I'll just drop
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  you at the grounds. There's no charge for admittance. You just watch all
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  the events and report to me who wins. Henry tried to explain to his
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  friend that he ought to be working, but there was actually no time,
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  and when he found himself seated on the bleachers and stunts began, he forgot
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  everything in the world except the exciting events before his eyes. Henry had no
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  pencil, but he had an excellent memory. He repeated over and over the
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  name of each winner as it appeared on the huge signboard. It was nearly
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  eleven o'clock when the free for all running race was announced. What do they
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  mean free for all? Asked Henry of a small boy at his side.
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  Why just anybody, explained the boy curiously. Didn't you ever see one?
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  Didn't you see the one last year? No, said Henry. The boy
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  laughed. Kat was a funny one, he said. There was a college
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  runner in it, and a couple of fat men and some girls, lots
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  of people, and the little colored boy over there won it. You just
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  ought to have seen that boy run. He went so fast you couldn't see
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  his legs beat the college runner. You know, Henry gazed at the winner
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  of last year's race. He was smaller than Henry, but apparently older.
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  In a few minutes, Henry had quietly left his place on the bleachers.
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  When the boy turned to speak to him again, he was gone. He
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  had gone, in fact, to the dressing room, where boys of all
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  sizes were putting on sandals and running trunks. A man stepped up to him
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  quickly want to enter, he asked, No time to waste, yes,
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  replied Henry. The man tossed him a pair of white shoes and some blue
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  trunks. He liked the look of Henry's face as he paused to ask in
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  an undertone, where did you train? Never trained, replied Henry. I
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  suppose you know? These fellows have been training all the year, observed the
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  man. You don't expect to win? Oh no, replied Henry, apparently
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  shocked at the idea. But it's lots of fun to run, you know.
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  He was dressed and ready by this time. How light he felt,
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  He felt as if he could almost fly. Presently, the contestants were all
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  marshaled out to the running track. Henry was number four. Now Henry had
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  never been trained to run, but the boy possessed an unusual quantity of common
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  sense. It's a mile race, he thought to himself, and it's the
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  second half mile that counts. So it happened that this was the main thought
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  in his mind. When the starter's gong sounded and the racers shot away down
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  the track in almost no time, Henry was far behind the first half of
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  the runners, but strangely enough, he did not seem to mind this greatly.
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  It's fun to run, anyhow, he thought. It was fun.
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  Certainly, he felt as if his limbs were strung together on springs. He
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  ran easily, without effort, each step bounding into the next like an elastic
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  After a few minutes of this, Henry had a new thought. Now you've
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  tried how easy you can run, Let's see how fast you can run.
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  And then not only Henry himself, but the enormous crowd as well began to
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  see how fast he could run. Slowly, he gained on the fellow ahead
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  of him and passed him. With the next fellow as a goal, he
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  gradually crept alongside and passed him with a spurt. The crowd shouted itself hoarse.
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  The field all along the course was black with people Henry could hear them
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  cheering for number four as he pounded by. Six runners remained ahead of him.
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  Here was the kind of race the crowd loved, not an easily won
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  affair between two runners, but a gradual victory between the best runner and overpowering
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  odds. Henry could see the finish flag now in the distance. He began
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  to spurt. He passed numbers fourteen and three. He passed twenty five,
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  six and one, almost in a bunch. Number sixteen remained ahead. Then
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  Henry began to think of winning. How much the twenty five dollar prize would
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  mean to Jess and the rest. Number sixteen must be passed. I'm going
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  to win this race, he said quietly in his own mind. I'll bet
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  you I am. The thought lent him speed Number four. Number four yelled
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  the crowd. Henry did not know that the fellow ahead had been ahead all
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  the way, and just because he Henry had slowly gained over them, all
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  the crowd loved him best. Henry waited until he could have touched him.
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  He was within three yards of the wire. He bent double and put all
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  his energy into the last elastic bound. He passed number sixteen and shot under
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  the wire. Then the crowd went wild. It scrambled over and under the
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  fence, cheering and blowing its horns. Henry felt himself lifted on many shoulders
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  and carried panting up to the reviewing stand. He bowed, laughing at the
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  sea of faces, and took the silver cup with its little wings in a
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  sort of dream. It is a wonder he did not lose the envelope containing
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  the prize, for he hardly realized when he took it what it was.
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  Then some one said, what's your name? Boy? That called him to
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  earth. He had to think quickly under cover of getting his breath. Henry
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  James, He replied, this was perfectly true as far as it went.
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  In a moment, the enormous sign board flashed out the name Henry James,
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  No. Four, aged thirteen, winner of Free for All. Meanwhile,
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  the man of the dressing room was busy locating mister Cordyce of the Cordyce Mills.
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  He knew that was exactly the kind of story that old James Henry would
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  like. Yes, sir, he said, smiling. I says to him,
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  you don't expect to win, of course, And he says to me,
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  oh, no, but it's lots of fun to run, you know.
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  Thank you, sir, returned mister Cordyce. That's a good story.
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  Bring the youngster over here, if you don't mind. When Henry appeared,
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  a trifle shaken out of his day and anxious only to get away, mister
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  Cordyce stretched out his hand. I like your spirit, my boy, he
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  said. I like your running too, but it's your spirit that I like
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  best. Don't ever lose it, Thank you, said Henry, shaking hands.
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  And there was only one in the whole crowd that knew who was shaking
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  hands with whom least of all James Henry and Henry James. End of Chapter ten,