oment the conversation was interrupted by the firing of the
first gun. This was the signal for all the boats to prepare themselves
for the coming struggle. Several minutes would elapse before the race
began and the report was for the warning of the contestants.

The boys now were clad in bathing suits although every one wore a
sweater in addition. They were confident that they would speedily be
drenched and they were prepared for emergencies. If any accident befell
the boat and they were compelled to swim, they would not be hampered by
heavy clothing.

It had been agreed that there should not be a flying start. Every boat
was to rest on the line and turn on its power after the second signal
was given.

As Fred, who was at the wheel glanced along the line of the contestants
he counted ten other boats that had entered the race. The only one of
the number, however, which he feared was the graceful little
motor-boat, only a few yards distant from the place where the Black
Growler was resting.

There was no conversation on the boat. The faces of all the Go Ahead
boys were tense and drawn and apparently all were unaware of the noise
and the presence of the hundreds of interested spectators.

Sam, though he was silent, was not idle. Every minute he was either
looking into the machinery or rubbing it with the cloth which he
continually held.

"It's time for that gun," said Fred in a low voice.

Every one was watching the face of the little clock on board and as the
seconds slowly passed, the boys did not even glance at one another.

In spite of the fact that everything had been done in their power to
prepare the Black Growler for the race, the boys were fearful that
something had been omitted or overlooked in their preparations.

A silence so tense that it was almost possible to feel it had settled
over the region. Even the judges seemed to share in the excitement of
the spectators.

The long stillness was broken by the report of the gun.

Instantly every one of the boats on the line started forward.

The Varmint II, and the Black Growler, as we know, were close together
and it was speedily evident that the expectations of the assembly were
that the former was to be the winner of the race.

"What's the trouble? What's the matter?" demanded George excitedly as
the Varmint II was seen to be creeping steadily ahead of its rival.

"Never you mind," said Sam brusquely. "We aren't goin' to be left in
this race. If ev