appoint you, but--but I don't think
it would be fair to the school to tell on Horace and lose the race. I'd
like to play mighty well, but--I guess we'll just keep this to
ourselves, fellows!"

CHAPTER XXV

THE BOAT-RACE

It was Saturday morning.

Along the Ferry Hill shore, from the landing to a point half a mile
further downstream where the finish flags flew, students and villagers,
the former in most cases accompanied by friends or relatives, stood, sat
or strolled at points of vantage. On the river white-sailed skiffs,
chugging launches, gaudy canoes and more sober rowboats darted and
drifted across the sunlit water. It was the hottest sort of a June
morning and only the steady little northerly breeze kept the heat from
being intolerable to the spectators along shore.

The crews had gone up the river half an hour before, the men making the
trip to the starting point in comfortable launches, their shells
streaking along in tow. The time for starting the race was already past
and everyone about the finish was eagerly awaiting the distant boom of
the tiny brass cannon aboard the referee's launch which would announce
to them that the struggle had begun two miles away.

From where Chub and Roy sat in the midst of a throng of onlookers on a
high point of rock near the finish line the entire course was in sight
save for a space where Fox Island hid it. Away up the broad blue ribbon
of water tiny specks that danced and glittered in the blaze of sunlight
told where the start was to be made, but only Sid, who was the proud
possessor of a pair of dilapidated field-glasses, could tell one boat
from another. At last there was an excited grunt from that youth.

"They're off!" he cried. "I saw the smoke from the cannon on the Sylph!"

And in confirmation of his statement a low _boom_ came down to them on
the breeze. Everyone jumped to his feet and gazed intently up-stream.
But only such as had glasses were able to throw any light on the
situation up there. Sid was popular and voluble.

"We're ahead, 'way ahead!" he cried excitedly. "About two lengths, I
guess."

"_Hooray!_" shrieked Patten.

"No, we're not, either," said Sid lamely. "I was looking at a launch. I
can't see our boat at all!"

"O--oh!" groaned the others.

"Yes, there it is! I think--it looks as though--"

"Well, out with it!" commanded Chub.

"I guess it's about a length behind," finished Sid.

But when half the course had been rowed it w