"Could he have heard me?"
"No," she whispered. "He's just come out of the house." And then to
herself, "Who under heaven is Bill Hammersley? I never heard of HIM!"
"Of course, Bill," said the voice beyond the fence, "if you're afraid
I'll beat you TOO badly, you've still got time to back out. I did
understand you to kind of hint that you were considerable of a jumper,
but if--What? What'd you say, Bill?" There ensued a moment's complete
silence. "Oh, all right," the voice then continued. "You say you're in
this to win, do you? Well, so'm I, Bill Hammersley; so'm I. Who'll go
first? Me? All right--from the edge of the walk here. Now then!
One--two--three! HA!"
A sound came to our ears of some one landing heavily--and at full
length, it seemed--on the turf, followed by a slight, rusty groan in the
same voice. "Ugh! Don't you laugh, Bill Hammersley! I haven't jumped as
much as I OUGHT to, these last twenty years; I reckon I've kind of lost
the hang of it. Aha!" There were indications that Mr. Beasley was
picking himself up, and brushing his trousers with his hands. "Now, it's
your turn, Bill. What say?" Silence again, followed by, "Yes, I'll make
Simpledoria get out of the way. Come here, Simpledoria. Now, Bill, put
your heels together on the edge of the walk. That's right. All ready?
Now then! One for the money--two for the show--three to make ready--and
four for to GO!" Another silence.
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