teen
years.

From time to time spectators cheered favorite boys in either squad.

"Central wins!" yelled one enthusiast, as the swimmers neared
the stakeboat off the pier.

"Don't you believe it," yelled another. "Wait for the finish."

There wasn't long to wait. As the swimmers came nearer it was
seen that Dave Darrin was ahead of all the swimmers, though Tom
Reade was pressing him hard. Behind Tom came Bill Rodgers, then
Greg Holmes, next two more North Grammar boys. Dan was next,
with Harry following. The three tailenders were North Grammar
boys.

"Central Grammar wins handily," announced Len Spencer through
a megaphone.

Hi Martin's face darkened. "Anyway, I'll have the satisfaction
of showing Dick Prescott my heels all the way up the course,"
he grunted.

"Now, you two individual racers tumble aboard, and get ready for
your work," warned Len, as the launch ran in alongside the pier.

"Wipe him up, Dick!"

"Don't show him any mercy, Hi!"

Various other comments wafted to the pair as they sat in the launch
facing each other.

"Some of those people must think we can both win," laughed Dick
good-humoredly.

"I'll soon show you that only one of us can win," retorted Hi
almost savagely.

Arrived at the raft, Len Spencer spoke briefly:

"At the first shot of the pistol you two youngsters take up your
positions, ready to dive. At the second shot, or as soon after
as you wish, you may dive and begin the race. Either contestant
who dives before the second shot is heard will be disqualified
and then the race will go to the other contestant."

Dick waited, tingling with the desire to win, though he knew that
Martin was a splendid swimmer for his age.

"Are you ready?" asked Len in a low voice. Both boys nodded.

Bang! Len fired a revolver into the air, calling the attention
of all spectators. Dick and Hi stepped nimbly to the edge of
the raft, poising with hands pointed.

Bang! The splash was simultaneous as the swimmers struck the
water. Each swimmer made a shallow dive and came up. Hi at once
dropped into an overhead stroke, Dick relying upon a side stroke.

For the first seventy-five yards, as nearly as the onlookers could
judge, the boys swam nose and nose.

"I'll tire this fellow out with a good pace, and then take a better
one," thought Hi Martin. "I'm going to make a finish that will
stop Dick Prescott from bragging whenever he sees me around hereafter."

Dick still swam well, but graduall