at its last notch only one man made it, and that was a kingston athletebut unfortunately not a lakerimmer, as punk remained behind with the others, and divided second place with a rival. a sack race was introduced to furnish a little diversion for the audience, which, in view of the length of the program, was beginning to believe that, after all, it is possible to have too much of a good thing. the kingstonians had put their hope in this event upon the twins. none but the dozen could tell them apart, but the kingstonians felt confident that one of the red-headed brotherhood would win out. and so it looked to the audience when the long row of men were tied up like dummies in sacks that reached to their necks; for, after the first muddle at the start, two small brick-top figures went bouncing along in the lead, like hot-water bags with red stoppers in them. the kingstonians, not knowing which of the twins was in the lead, if indeed either of them actually led, yelled violently: the twins! the twins! it was reddy that had got the first start and cleared the multitude, but heady, by a careful system of jumping, was soon alongside his brother. he made a kind-hearted effort to cut reddy off, with the result that they wabbled together and fell in a heap. they did not mind the fact that two or three other sack-runners were falling all over them; nor did they care what became of the race: the desire of each was to tear off that sack and get at the wretched brother that had caused the fall. not being able to work their hands loose, they rolled toward each other, and began violently to bunt heads. finding that this banner of battle hurt the giver of the blow as much as it did the receiver of it, they rolled apart again, and began to kick at each other in a most ludicrous and undignified manner. the lakerimmers were finally compelled to rush in on the track and separate the loving brothers. strange to say, the twins got no consolation for the loss of the race from the fact that the audience had laughed till the tears ran down its face. [illustration: tied up like dummies in sacks.] when the running high jump went to troy on account of the inability of b.j. to reach even his own record, the kingstonians began to feel anxious of results. troy had won six events, and they had won only four. the points, too, had fallen in such a way that there was a bad discrepancy. sawed-off appeared upon the horizon as a temporary rescuer; and while he could not put the sixteen-pound bag of shot so far as he had in better days sent the sixteen-pound solid shot, still he threw it farther than any of the trojans could, and brought the kingston score up to within one of the events gone to troy. pretty added one more by a display of grace and skill in the fencing-match with foils, that surprised even his best friends from lakerim, and won the unanimous vote of the three judges, themselves skilful fencers. a wet blanket was thrown on the encouragement of the kingstonians by their inferiority at weight-lifting. sawed-off was many pounds from the power of a certain powerful trojan, who was a smaller man with bigger muscles. then all the members of the dozen had a special parlay with jumbo, imploring him to save the day and the honor of both kingston and lakerim by winning the wrestling-match. xxv when jumbo glanced across the floor and saw the man that was to be his opponent striding toward the mat in the center of the floor, he wished that some one else had been placed as the keystone in the kingston arch of success. for jumbo knew well the mans record as a wrestler. but jumbo himself, while small, was well put together; and though built, as he said, close to the ground, he was built for business. since he had gone in for wrestling he had made it the specialty of all his athletic exercises. he had practised everything that had any bearing on the strengthening of particular muscles or general agility. he had practised cart-wheels, hand-springs, back and front flips. he had worked with his neck at the chest-weight machine. he would walk on his hands to strengthen his throat, and his collars had grown in a few weeks from thirteen and a half to fifteen, and he could no longer wear his old shirts without splitting them. he made the mats in the kingston gymnasium almost his home. his special studies were bridging and spinning. he spent hours on his back, rising to his two feet and his head and then rolling from one shoulder to the other and spinning to his front. when he had his bridge-building abilities fairly well started, he compelled his heavy chum sawed-off to act as a living meal-bag, and rolled around upon the top of his head and bridged, with sawed-off laying all his weight across his chest. when he went to bed he bridged there until the best of wrestlers, sleep, had downed him. when he woke in the morning, he fell out of bed to the floor, turning his head under him and rolling so as not to break his neck or any bones, and bridging rigidly upon his head and bare feet. jumbo knew that, whatever might be the ability of his rival, the trojan ware, at least he, jumbo, could have his conscience easy with the thought that he had made the most profitable use of the short time he had spent on wrestling, and that he would put up as good a fight as was in him. more than that no athlete can do. jumbo and ware met upon the mattress with their close-shaven heads looking like bulldogs jowls; and they shook handsif one can imagine bulldogs shaking hands. jumbo had two cardinal principles, but he could put neither of them into practice in the first maneuvers: the first was always to try to get out of one difficulty by dumping the opponent into another; the second was always to try for straight-arm leverages. ware being the larger of the two, jumbo was content to play a waiting game and find out something of the methods of his burly opponent. he dodged here and there, avoiding the reaching lobster-claws of ware by quick wriggles or by slapping his hands away as they thrust. suddenly ware made a quick rush, and, breaking through jumbos interference, seized him around the body to bend him backward. but while the man was straining his hardest, jumbo brought his hands around and placed them together in front of the pit of his stomach, so that the harder ware squeezed the harder he pressed jumbos fists into his abdomen. ware looked foolish at being foiled so neatly, and broke away, only to come at jumbo again, and clasp him so close that there was no room for his fists to press against wares diaphragm. but now jumbo suddenly clasped his left arm back of wares neck, and with his right hand bent the mans forehead back until he was glad enough to let go and spring away. ware continued to run around jumbo as a dog runs around a treed cat. but jumbo always evaded his quick rushes till ware, after many false moves, finally made a sudden and unforeseen dash, seized jumbos right hand with both of his, whirled in close, and, with his back against jumbos chest, carried the lakerimmers right arm straight and stiff across his shoulder. bearing down with all his weight on this lever, and at the same time dropping to his knees, he shot jumbo over his shoulders, heels over head