a day for the best of work.

Everybody seemed bound for Lake Saltonstall. They were going out in
carriages, hacks, coaches, on foot, by train, and in many other ways.
The road to the lake was lined with people. The students were shouting,
singing and blowing horns. One crowd of freshmen had a big banner, on
which was lettered:

"'Umpty-eight, she is great,
She will win sure as fate."

Evidently the sophomores had been informed about this banner in advance,
for they carried one which declared:

"'Umpty-eight isn't in it,
She'll be beaten in a minute."

How they shouted and taunted each other! How they raced along the road!
How sure everybody was that he could pick the winner!

The scene at the lake was beautiful and inspiring, for the shore was
lined with people and there were flags and bright colors everywhere. On
the point there was a great mob, composed mostly of students, who were
yelling and cheering and flaunting their flags. The boats on the lake
were well filled and gay with colors. New Haven swell society was fairly
represented, and it certainly was an occasion to stir youthful blood.

The freshman-sophomore-junior race came fourth on the list, and it was
to be the event of the day. Strangely enough, the juniors were not
reckoned as dangerous by either freshmen or sophomores. Between the last
two classes was to come the real tug of war.

In the boathouse the great Bob Collingwood, of the 'Varsity crew, gave
the freshmen some advice, and they listened to him with positive awe. He
had heard of Merriwell's attempt to introduce the English stroke, and he
did not approve of it.

After he had got through Merriwell took his men aside into another part
of the boathouse and warned them against thinking of anything
Collingwood had said.

"He is all right when he is talking to men who use his style of oar and
the regular American stroke, but you will be broke up sure as fate if
you think of what he has said that disagrees with my instructions. It is
too late now to make any change, and we must win or lose as we have
practiced."

"That's right," agreed every man.

"We'll win," said Rattleton, resolutely.

They could hear the cheering as the other races took place, and at last
it came their turn. How their hearts thumped! And it was Merriwell that
quieted their unsteady nerves with a few low, calm words, which seemed
to give them the bracer which they needed before going into the race.

'Umpty-eigh