g heart. "We were
fools to enter as a school crew without more practice!"

At this time Dick Prescott was the only one in the war canoe who
serenely ignored all doubts. Of course he couldn't be sure that
he would win. In fact, all the chances appeared against him.
But the absurd habit, as it seemed to others, of feeling that
Gridley could not be beaten, was strong upon him.

More than half way to the upper buoy Preston High School led by
more than two lengths.

"Get on, Gridley! Get on! Do something!" came the distant yet
distinct yells from shore. Many spectators, in carriages, or
on bicycles, were following the rival crews.

"Prescott, what ails you?" came a wailing cry from shore.

There were other discouraging calls, too. Had Dick been less
strong in his faith in Dick & Co. he might have gone to pieces
under the nagging.

Bob Hartwell, glancing smilingly back over one shoulder, saw the
Gridley boys working.

"We've got 'em stung, fellows," called the Preston High School
big chief to his crew. "Take it easy, but don't let 'em gain
anything. We won't try to increase the lead until we're on the
last half of the home stretch."

A hundred and fifty yards from the upper buoy Dick passed the
word:

"Now, hump a bit. We want to worry 'em as we get to the buoy.
Make it hot for Preston! One, two, three, four!"

Some of that distance was covered. As Preston rounded the buoy
Hartwell and his crew came face to face with Gridley, about to
round it.

"One, two, three, four!" almost drawled Dick. He had already
passed the signal to his own men, not one of whom obeyed his slow
count, but on the other hand, Preston High School for the space
of about fifteen seconds, slowed to that crawling count.

"Brace up, you dubs! Paddle!" roared Hartwell. "Never mind that
funeral march. Dipperty-dip!"

Preston recovered from its brief trance and shot ahead. But Gridley
was already around the buoy and coming fast.

Half way home from the upper buoy found Preston going strongly,
two and a half lengths ahead of Gridley High School.

"Oh, you, Prescott, get up and run!" came the dismal, desperate
advice from shore.

As he mentally measured the distance, now, to the finishing line,
Dick Prescott's eyes flashed.

"Now, your reserve power, fellows!" he called in a low, tense
voice. "Make every stroke count! Full muscle! Never mind your
backs! One, two, three, four!"

A splendid showing Gridley made. Soo