ey were greeted with great
cordiality by the young men of the camp. Flora Harris and Alice Paine
did not put in an appearance until within five minutes of the starting
time of the race. Both young women were attired in expensive boating
costumes of heavy cream-colored pongee. They wore white silk stockings
and white buckskin shoes. Their only touches of color were the scarfs
of pale green crepe de chine which were passed under their sailor
collars, and tied in a sailor knot at the open necks of their blouses.

Madge could not help feeling a tiny pang of envy as she gazed at her
beautifully dressed rivals. It was only for a moment, however. She
turned to Tom Curtis, who had hardly left her side since her arrival,
and said, "I have one last particular favor to ask. Will you ask your
crew to come and stand in a line before me?"

"Certainly," agreed Tom wonderingly. The next instant the six men stood
in a line before her. They were Tom Curtis and Alfred Thornton, who
were to pull together, Harry Sears and a Maryland boy, named George
Robinson, and two brothers, Peter and John Simrall. The six youths had
on their rowing costumes, with their sweaters over them. They looked
like a row of good-natured giants as they smiled cheerfully down on
Madge.

Phyllis, Eleanor and Lillian were standing just behind her. Flora
Harris and her cousin, Alice Paine, were not far away. Flora Harris and
Madge had barely spoken to each other all day. Before she had an
opportunity to explain what she wished of the young men, Flora
whispered to her cousin, so audibly that not only Madge but her three
friends heard "I suppose Miss Morton has arranged this tableau to make
herself conspicuous, as usual."

Madge flushed hotly. A quick reply sprang to her lips. The three girls
cast indignant glances at Flora. Madge shook her head slightly. She
meant that they were to remain silent. She had determined not to lose
her temper again with Flora Harris, no matter what the other girl said
or did, and she did not wish her friends to fight her battles. Then she
turned to the boys, who stood in an expectant row.

"Gentlemen," she began solemnly, not a sign of laughter on her usually
merry face, "before we begin our boat race, you will have to make us a
solemn promise." She gazed searchingly at the six oarsmen. "You must
promise us that you will play fair this afternoon in our rowing
contest."

"Why, Madge Morton!" exclaimed Tom, "what do you mean? Do you ta