back again, before Laura in Lance's boat can do it. And
Lance has the lightest boat."

"Done!" cried his sister. "And Lance's boat isn't so much lighter,
either. What do you say, girls?"

"Let's show 'em!" cried Bobby. "Let me steer, Laura."

"All right," said Laura.

"And Freddie Ackerman here will steer for us," said Chet.

The crews were quickly chosen. Laura took Eve and the twins with her.
Chet had Purt Sweet for Number 2 and pulled stroke himself. Lance
arranged the start and was referee.

"When I slap these two sticks together, you're to go," instructed Lance.
"The line is right between where I stand here on this rock and the
boulder at the far mouth of the cavern. I can see the whole course from
here. Now, no bumping at the turn. The boat that has the inside at the
buoy must be cleared by the other boat. Don't forget. Are you ready?"

"Oh, wait a minute!" squealed Purt Sweet.

"Yes, hold on!" grunted Chet. "Purt's back hair has come down."

"I weally will have to remove my waistcoat--if you will allow me?"
suggested the exquisite. "It might get splashed."

"Go as far as you like," said Lance. "Chuck it ashore here. I'll stand
on it so as to see better."

But Purt entrusted the precious waistcoat to one of the girls in another
boat, and then the two racing boats were brought into line. The referee
asked if they were ready again, and, receiving no contrary answer,
shouted:

"Go!"

Chet's crew certainly were a scrub lot, and he did not expect to get
much speed out of them; but Otto was a strong oar and had Purt been able
to keep the stroke the girls would have made a bad showing to the buoy.
Up to that turn the boys kept ahead. Laura set an easy stroke, and found
that Eve Sitz was not much inferior to either Dora or Dorothy.

"They're going to beat!" gasped Bobby, swinging with the rowers.

"Don't let them worry you," advised Laura, between her teeth. "The race
isn't done until we cross the line."

But in turning the buoy the boys came to grief. Or, rather, Purt Sweet
came to grief. He managed to catch a most famous crab, and went over on
his back, hitting his head a resounding crack upon the handle of Lance's
oar, and waving his long legs in the air.

"Now!" cried Laura, increasing her stroke, and the girls' boat went past
their opponents' at a fast clip.

The boys got together again after half a minute; but those thirty
seconds told the story of the race. The best the boys could do brought