learned to swim during her first term.
Perhaps the proximity of the lake and the lure of the small fleet of
canoes and rowboats tied up at the wharf had something to do with the
success of the swimming classes. No girl who could not swim was permitted
on the lake, alone or with a companion.

Betty and her chums awaited their final tests eagerly--so excited the
last day or two they could scarcely keep their minds on their books or
sit in patience through a recitation--and passed them with flying colors.
Constance Howard was an excellent swimmer, and it was the sight of her
paddling gracefully about the lake on sunny Saturday afternoons that
spurred the seven who could not swim on to greater effort.

"Come on," cried Betty gaily, taking the gymnasium steps two at a time.
"Come, girls--this afternoon we go rowing. I've my 'stiffcut,' as Mr.
Peabody used to call it, and we've all passed. Oh, it's cloudy!"

She looked at the sky disappointedly. When they had gone into the pool an
hour before the sun had been shining brightly, but now the gray clouds
were thick overhead and the air was chilly.

"Who cares for the weather?" said Bobby scornfully. "Guess it will take
more than a little rain to stop me! I've been crazy to take a row-boat
out for three weeks."

"Perhaps it will clear," contributed the optimistic Louise.

But after lunch the sky was still overcast.

"Don't be silly--it won't rain," urged Bobby, as her chums demurred.
"Next Saturday it may be too cold. Oh, come on, girls."

Thus incited, they went down to the wharf and made their choice of boats.
Norma and Alice wanted to take out a canoe, and they offered to paddle
for Libbie, who seemed disinclined to exercise. Betty had wondered once
or twice if the girl were ill, for she seemed very nervous, jumped if a
door slammed or some one spoke to her suddenly, and in the morning looked
as if she had not slept well.

Betty and Bobby selected a flat-bottomed row-boat and for passenger they
took Frances, who offered to help row if they became tired.

Louise and Constance chose another canoe.

They headed north, and once out in the center of the lake, paddled
and rowed steadily. Betty's rowing experience was limited, but Bobby
was proud of her "stroke," and soon taught her chum the secret of
handling the oars.

"Ship ahoy!" shouted Bobby presently.

Libbie jumped and looked ahead anxiously.

"It's only the boys," she said dully.

An eight-oared rowing shell