Cinder Path Tales

18 CINDER-PATH TALES on my running-clothes. A littlebetter Idid feel, but at thelast moment I broke the lace of my left shoe asI was pulling it tight. Now, there is an old superstition that this means a lost race, and though I had never thought of such a foolish thing before, it seemed now a sure omen of defeat. Indeed, I may as well confess first as last, that when Hacking knocked at my door, for the first time in all my life (and the last as well) I was in a blue funk. Yes, a rankquitter wasI on that afternoon of May i, 186-,and I am not sure I should not have cutand run, had there been the least chance to get away. Hacking discovered my condition at once, and grew mighty seriouswhen his efforts to hearten me were unsuccessful.And truly the man had goodreason tobe serious,— a good three hundred dollars at risk, and here was his man with knees kissing and lips white. There wasnothing todo but to go on with the game, though, to make it worse, as I walked down the back stairs, I caught my spikes in a crack and nearly putmyself out of the raceby a bad fall before the start. It is almost an absurd thing to say, but when I picked myself up and discovered I was entirely uninjured, I cursed theill-luck which had not allowed me to be disabled.