le canoe crept steadily up, then led by a quarter
length, a half length. It looked as though the Trentville crew
would soon be a length ahead of the Gridley boys.

Everyone of Dick's chums was desperate. So was Dick himself,
but he kept as cool as possible.

"Bring our prow up!" he called steadily. "No matter what happens,
bring our prow up flush with Trentville!"

By some miracle the Gridley boys found strength enough left in
their arms and backs to accomplish this feat.

Then the "Scalp-hunter" dropped behind again, an inch at a time.

"We caught 'em once!" called Dick in an even voice. "We must
do it again. One, two, three, four! Hump! hump! Put in the
power!"

By inches the "Scalp-hunter" crawled up, but Dick & Co. felt
completely exhausted.

"You've been doing well, kid," called the even voice of Ted Pascal
over the water, "but you can't do any more. We take this race!"

"Do you?" dared Dick.

"Yes; you're all in, and we have reserve steam left."

"Have you?" snapped young Prescott. "Then now is the time to
prove it."

Taking a deep breath, Dick Prescott shouted:

"Remember what Gridley demands! No defeats. Dash ahead, Gridleys!
Now---go in and kill yourselves for the honor of your school!"

Dick was far from meaning that literally, but his quick eye had
measured the remaining distance of the course.

He was captain enough to know just what each of his men could
endure, and for how long they could stand up under it.

"Life is of little use to the vanquished!" Dick shouted on. "Go
in to win---kill yourselves!"

At an earlier point on the course it would have been fearfully
bad leadership. It would have resulted in disaster had any of
Dick & Co. had any form of serious physical weakness.

But Dick Prescott knew his boys!

"Kill yourselves!" he shouted out again, as he saw the two canoes
running neck and neck. "For the honor of Gridley High School!"

Right noble was the response, though flesh and blood could not
stand this new and savage grilling for long.

"Wake up, Trentville!" shouted Ted Pascal, when he saw the
"Scalp-hunter" gaining. "Wake up! Let out all of your steam!
Push!"

Dick Prescott said no more. His straining gaze was now fixed
on the finish line. Not one of his chums even glanced at the
imaginary line. All their thoughts, like all their glances, were
on their paddles.

"A final dash, now!" called Dick. "Slam up the pace for Gridley!"

But Trentville