"Yes, I will, and thank you."

"Then come round to the house as soon as you've got through dinner."

"All right! I'll come."

"I suppose you haven't found a place?" said Mrs. Bradford when Ben entered.

"Not yet."

"I don't know what's going to become of us if you don't," said Aunt Jane mournfully.

"Don't get discouraged so quick, aunt. I've only been looking round one forenoon. Besides, I've been offered a place, and declined it."

"Declined it! What could you have been thinking of?"

Ben then told his aunt of the place at the druggist's. He thought he would not mention the others.

"If you'd taken it, we might have got our medicine cheaper," said Aunt Jane, who did not comprehend a joke, and understood the offer literally.

"I should have got mine for nothing," said Ben, laughing, "and more than I wanted, too."

"What pay would you get?"

"I didn't ask. The first pill the druggist offered me was too much for me. So I respectfully declined the position."

"Pills are excellent for the const.i.tution," said Mrs. Bradford, in a rather reproachful tone. "I never could get you to take them, Benjamin. Some day you'll lose your life, perhaps, because you are so set against them."

"I can't say I hanker after them, aunt," said Ben good humoredly.

"However, you see, I might have had a place, so you mustn't get discouraged so quick."

"Will you stay at home this afternoon, Ben?" asked little Tony.

"I can't Tony; I have an engagement with James Watson. Aunt Jane, if I am late to supper, don't be frightened."

Ben found James ready and waiting. They set out at once.

Lovell's Grounds were situated a mile and a half away; they comprised several acres, sloping down to a pond, which was provided with pleasure boats. The grounds were frequently hired by parties from neighboring towns, having been fitted up especially for the enjoyment of a crowd. To-day they were engaged by a young people's a.s.sociation, and the program included, among other things, some athletic sports.

The grounds were pretty well filled when the two boys arrived. In fact, the performance had already commenced.

"You're just in time for the fun, boys," said George Herman, a mutual acquaintance, coming up to meet them.

"Why, what's up George?"

"There is to be a fat man's race of two hundred yards, for a prize of five dollars."

"Who are going to enter?"

"Tom Hayden, the landlord of the Milltown House, and Jim Morrison, the tailor. One weighs two hundred and fifty, the other two hundred and forty-three."

"Good!" laughed Ben. "That will be fun. Where do they start from?"

"There! Don't you see that chalk-mark? And there come the men."

There was a level track laid out, extending two hundred yards, which was used for such occasions, and this was one of the attractive features of Lovell's Grounds.

The two men advanced to the starting-line, each accoutered for the race. They had divested themselves of their coats, and stood in shirt-sleeves, breathing hard already, in antic.i.p.ation of the race.

Their bulky forms appeared to great advantage, and excited considerable amus.e.m.e.nt. Tom Hayden, who was rather the heavier of the two, had encircled his waist with a leather strap, which confined it almost as closely as a young lady's waist. This was by advice of Frank Jones, a young fellow noted as a runner.

"I don't think I can stand it, Frank," said Hayden, gasping for breath.

"Oh, yes, you can, Mr. Hayden. You'll see how it will help you."

"I can hardly breathe. You've got it too tight."

Frank Jones loosened it a little, and then turned to Morrison.

"Won't you have a girdle, too, Mr. Morrison?" he asked.

"Not much. I don't want to be suffocated before I start. Have you made your will, Hayden?"

"Not yet, I will make it after I have won the prize."

"Are you ready, gentlemen?" asked Frank Jones, who officiated as starter.

"As ready as I ever expect to be," answered Hayden, trying to draw a long breath, and failing.

"Then, start at the word three. One! Two! Three!"

Amid shouts of applause, the two fat men started. It cannot be said they started like arrows from the bow, but they certainly exerted themselves uncommonly. Their faces grew red with the efforts they made, and their colossal legs hurried over the ground as fast as could reasonably be expected.

"I could beat them easily," said James Watson.

"Of course you could. Just wait till you've got as much to carry.

Look! there's Morrison down!"

It was true. Somehow one of Morrison's legs entangled with the other, and he tumbled and rolled over and over.

"Go in and win, Hayden!" shouted fifty voices to his gasping compet.i.tor.

About seventy-five yards remained to be traversed. It look as if Hayden could win the race with opposition. But he was quite out of breath. He pressed both hands on his stomach, stopped, and deliberately sat down on the track.

"Don't give it up!" yelled the crowd. "Keep on, and the prize is yours!"

"I can't," gasped Hayden, "and I wouldn't for five times the prize. I don't want it."

So the prize was not awarded, but the crowd had their fun, and the two fat compet.i.tors sat down together to rest under a tree. They did not recover from their efforts for at least an hour.