cking, and it was a choice between doing that and
falling into the river.

"Their boat's upset!" he cried back.

"So I see," answered Chub. "But it isn't necessary to upset this one,
too. Besides, they can all swim like fishes."

Nevertheless he bent to his paddle and, with Roy making ineffectual
efforts to help him, fairly shot the craft over the water. But long
before they had neared the overturned boat it became evident that their
aid was not required, for the boys in the water, laughing over their
mishap, were swimming toward the beach and pushing the capsized boat
before them. Chub headed the canoe toward the landing.

"You see," he explained, "no fellow is allowed to get into a boat here
until he can swim, and so, barring a swift current, there isn't much
danger. That's Sid in front. He's a regular fish in the water and it's
even money that he upset the thing on purpose. He'd better not let Emmy
know about it, though. By the way, how about you? Can you swim? I forgot
to ask you."

"Yes, I can swim pretty fair," answered Roy.

"All right. I took it for granted you could. You look like a chap that
can do things. Do you play baseball?"

"No; that is, I've never played on a team. Of course, I can catch a ball
if it's coming my way."

"Good! Why not come out for the nine in the spring? Will you?"

"I don't believe there'd be much use in it," said Roy. "I know so little
about the game."

"That's all right. You could learn. Half the fellows who try have never
played before. And I know you can start quick and run like a streak. I
saw you make that touchdown day before yesterday. You'd better try."

"Well," answered Roy, as they lifted the canoe from the water and bore
it into the boat house, "maybe I will. Only I don't think the captain
would be very glad to see me."

"Don't you worry about the captain," laughed Chub. "He's too glad to get
material to be fussy."

"Who is captain?" asked Roy.

"I am," said Chub. "That's how I know so much about him!"

CHAPTER VI

METHUSELAH HAS A SORE THROAT

Football practice was hard and steady the next week, for Maitland had
trounced Ferry Hill 17 to 0, and as Maitland was only a high school,
albeit a rather large one, the disgrace rankled. Jack Rogers wasn't the
sort of chap to wear his heart on his sleeve, and so far as his
countenance went none would have guessed him to be badly discouraged.
But he was, and Roy, for one, knew it. And I think Jack knew th