by this time, and there was
considerable excitement.

Both boys were great favorites and the fact of their entering such
a novel contest just for the fun of it, and to please the boys and
their visitors, was admired by everybody.

There was an even chance for each of the boys, but the odds were in
favor of Jack, although Percival was no less liked by the Hilltop
boys.

"Keep her up, Jack!" roared forty boys.

"Go ahead, Dick!" shouted as many more.

Percival had to take to the water a second or two ahead of Jack,
who won the race, much to the delight of all the boys, Dick included.

CHAPTER XVI

THE PRIZES AWARDED

It was the day when the prizes were to be announced in the literary
contest, and all the Hilltop boys were gathered in the pavilion eager
to hear the result of the committee's consultation.

The doctor arose when all were present, and spoke of the contest,
saying that it had brought out the best powers of a number of the
boys and showed that they all had considerable ability when they put
their minds on affair of this sort, and concluding by saying:

"I will now read the poem which I consider the best. In fact, it
is the unanimous opinion of the committee that it is."

Thereupon the doctor began to read the opening lines of the poem,
which were as follows:

"_From the hills of the beautiful Hudson,
Rendered sacred by patriot blood,
Come to us most inspiring traditions,
Swelling on in a glorious flood._"

"_The mighty achievements of Clinton,
Of brave Putnam and---"_

Here Pete Herring suddenly jumped on his feet, and waving a paper
in his hand, cried excitedly:

"That's plagiarism! That thing was not written by any of the
Hilltop boys. It has been taken bodily from a paper published up
the state, which I get every week, and was written by-----"

"Why, those verses were written by Jack Sheldon himself!" cried
Percival, getting up excitedly.

"They were published in the Riverton News, but were unsigned. I know
that Jack wrote them."

"Please be seated, Percival," said the doctor. "Sit down, Herring.
I will give you an opportunity to speak presently. This poem
purports to have been written by Sheldon. Is that so?"

"Yes, sir," said Jack, "or at least what you have read was written
by me. I don't know if the rest was. I cannot tell till I hear it."

"And you say that the lines I have just read were not written by
him?" Dr. Wise asked, turning to Herring.

"No, they