opportunity to watch the Trentville work. Moreover,
by delaying his own race against Trentville, Dick had had more
time to train and drill his crew into form, both as to paddling
and endurance.

He had profited well by these opportunities. To-day, from the
outset, he had handled his crew so that a slight lead over Trentville
had been maintained. This had been gradually increased, and now
that the buoy had been turned with such a handsome lead, none
on shore or in the other boats believed that Trentville High School
had any further chance.

Pascal, however, who captained the Trentville canoe, had another
view of the matter. It was Ted Pascal's third summer in a canoe.
He had drilled more than one crew, and knew all the ins and outs
of the sport.

"I guess Prescott thinks he has the whole thing, by this time,"
smiled Pascal to himself. "Poor chap. He's a nice young freshman,
and I hate to fool him. But we'll soon begin our work. The Gridley
crew must be well tired by now."

Presently Ted Pascal passed the word quietly over the heads of
his perspiring but confident crew.

"Tighten up a little bit, now---a little bit at a time," was the
message Pascal gave his followers.

By the time that the home course had been half covered it was
noted that the "Slip-over," as the Trentville craft was named,
was creeping up fast on its rival.

Dick, too, quickly became aware of this.

"Trentville is showing a lot of new form, fellows, and coming
right up on us," Dick called quietly. "This race isn't won!
The fact, we're near to losing it. Form! form! muscle! Don't
fumble again, Hazelton! One, two, three, four!"

But still the Trentville High School craft continued to creep
up on them. The Gridley High School girls on shore became so
anxious that they forgot to wave their handkerchiefs and cheer.

"More push! Power, as well as speed," Dick panted, for now the
grueling speed was beginning to tell on even the leader of Dick
& Co.

The prow of the "Slip-over" now passed the stern of the
"Scalp-hunter." Reade saw this, too, and uttered a groan.

From the shore and the boats holding spectators came new volleys
of cheers, for most of these spectators were wholly impartial,
and wanted only to see an exciting race.

"Let yourself out, Gridley!" boomed a voice over the water.

Dick and Co. were doing their best---or what amounted to much
the same thing---believed that they were, at any rate.

Yet the Trentvil