d uneasily. The Foxes had been in the lead ever since
the last contest. If they won again, they would be out so far in front
that it would be almost impossible to catch them.

It was time for the Morse. Tim put his flag under his arm and went out to
his station. Ritter went along to read the message to him, word for word,
so that there would be no loss of time. Bobbie, at the receiving end, was
to write the message as Don called him the letters.

Ritter tore open the envelope and took out the paper.

"How long?" Tim demanded.

"Eleven words." Tim reached out his hand and Ritter drew back. "Never
mind reading it. Just send what I give you. You won't get twisted
thinking about the next word, because you won't know what it is."

Tim did not argue. He could see Bobbie lying on the ground with pad and
pencil, and Don crouched on one knee above him. Gee! when would the bugle
blow?

"Don't go too fast," Ritter said huskily.

Tim scarcely heard. He and Don had made no mistakes the last time they
practiced. How would it be now on the day of the real thing?

"T-a-a-a-a, ta, ta," sounded the bugle.

"Every--" cried Ritter.

Tim sent the word. His hands gripped the flag staff with a nervous,
straining strength.

"--patriot--"

This word followed the first.

"--places--his--all--"

Tim was breathing hard.

"--at--the--service--"

His throat was dry.

"--of--his--"

Tim's arms trembled. Was there much more?

"--country," said Ritter, as though he couldn't get the word out fast
enough. "End of message."

Tim fronted his flag three times. He saw Bobbie hand the message to Don,
and Don race over to Mr. Wall.

"We're first in," cried Ritter. "Come on, Tim."

But Tim was suddenly afraid. He dropped the flag and pretended that his
shoe-laces were loose. Ritter ran ahead. Tim fussed with the laces a long
time--was still fussing, in fact, when cries of "O you Foxes! What's the
matter with the Foxes?" brought him to his feet.

This time he walked in hurriedly. Ritter met him.

"You had three mistakes, Tim," he said sadly.

"_I_ had three mistakes?" Tim cried angrily.

"Well, we had three mistakes. The Foxes were perfect again. They're
sharks on signaling. The Eagles were last."

Tim went over to Don. "Let's see that message." He read it under his
breath. "Every batriot blaces his all at the sereice of his country."

The Foxes were still skylarking when he handed back what Bobbie had
written. He looked aro