leanor. "Each one has got
to win or lose on her own merits in this race."

Bessie smiled as she heard Dolly's impulsive appeal. She wanted to
win, too, because it was impossible for her to engage in any contest
without wanting to come out ahead, or as far ahead as she could. This
time, of course, second place was all she could hope for, but she was
not one of those people who, if the chief prize is beyond their reach,
relax their efforts to do as well as they can.

As she finished wiping each dish dry she arranged it, stacking her
dishes in order of their size, so that they could all be carried easily
to the tent where they were to be laid away.

Margery, on the other hand, grew nervous as she neared the end. Once a
plate slipped through her hand, but, fortunately, her cry of dismay as
it fell was premature, for it did not break. But she was putting her
dishes down anywhere, without regard for their size or for convenience
in carrying them, and as a result, though she had finished the actual
drying nearly a minute before Bessie, she was still frantically
gathering her piled dishes together in her arms when Bessie wiped the
last spoon.

Then, without haste, Bessie picked up her whole pile, and, starting
before Margery, walked carefully over to the tent. She put away her
last dish before Margery was half done, and the contest was over.

"Go on, girls!" cried Eleanor, as she saw that interest was slackening
with the choice of the second pathfinder. "You don't want to be last,
do you? I should think you'd all want to avoid that!"

The reminder was enough, and the others were soon busily finishing
their tasks. Zara was fourth, right after Margery, and then there was
a wild scramble among the last four. They finished almost together,
and Eleanor, with a laugh, had to declare that there was a tie for
sixth, seventh and eighth places.

"So no one was really last!" she declared, merrily. "My, but that was
good fun! It certainly was, if you enjoyed racing half as much as I
did watching you! It's a pity we never thought of that before."

"I'll beat you next time, you two!" vowed the panting Margery, shaking
her first in mock anger at Bessie and Dolly. "More haste, less speed!
That's what beat me! But I'll know better next time."

"We'll have a team race some time," said Eleanor. "Two teams of
four--that ought to be good fun. Oh, there are lots of ways of having
a good time if you only think of them!"