"All right, fellows, up she goes!" sang out Tom, and the stick went up.
Hans spat on his hands as if going to lift some thing. Then he squared his shoulders and drew far back from the jumping place.
"Gif me lots of room, eferypotty!" he sang out.
"All the room you want, Dutchy!" cried one of the cadets.
Away Hans started for the stick, running as swiftly as his short legs would carry him. When about ten feet away he made a wild leap, stuck up both legs in the air, and came down flat on his back with a loud whack.
"Hurrah, Hans wins!" cried Tom. "Best fall I've seen in a year!"
"Wh—who—vat" gasped Hans, trying to recover his wind. "Who knocked me der pack ofer annahow?"
"Nobody hit you, Hans."
"Who put geese grease der groundt on ver I run, hey?"
"Nobody."
"Well, did I knock der stick town?"
"No, you didn't come anywhere near the stick."
"Do I got some more trials?"
"I think, Mueller, that you had better retire,"
