d the thought was rapture. How much more they would have
enjoyed it had they known of the difficult "foul," of Donald's headlong
plunge, and of the subsequent frantic and exhaustive contest of rowing!

So much for carrying out one mock race and starting another in the
presence of somebody named Dorothy, who first had suspected and then had
been morally sure that those boys were playing a trick! When four of
them crossed the line at once, her suspicions were aroused. "I do
believe they're fooling!" she had said to herself, and then, remembering
certain mysterious conferences that Don and some others of the "seven"
had been holding, coupled with a sly look or two that she had seen
exchanged by the contestants, she had jumped to the correct conclusion.
As she afterwards expressed it to Ed Tyler, she had seen through it all
in a flash.

Misery loves company. Those seven boys, from that day, had a peculiar
tenderness for one another. They were linked by a hidden bond; and while
they laughed heartily at their own expense, and tacitly confessed
themselves beaten, they compelled all outsiders to be satisfied with
guessing and with hints of the catastrophe that somehow came to light.
Not one of them ever disclosed all the facts of the case,--the secret
sessions, the frequent upset-practisings on cloudy evenings, the
difficulty of the final performance, and the full sum of their defeat.

Ben, usually a kind brother, was sternness itself so far as the great
race was concerned. Not one of the juvenile Danbys dared to allude to it
in his august presence. Only on one occasion did he unbend, and that was
when little Fandy ventured to observe that he ought to have heard what
one of the girls had said about him in the race. This remark rankled
even in that stony bosom. The more Ben Buster tried not to care, the
more it tortured him. To make matters worse, he had betrayed himself too
soon to the sagacious Fandy. In vain the big brother cajoled the little
one; in vain, at cautious intervals, he tried the effect of indirect
bribes and hidden threats. The more he desired to know what that girl
had said, the more Fandy wouldn't tell him. At last he triumphed. In a
yielding moment, when Ben had been touchingly kind, the grateful
youngster let it out:

"You want t' know what that girl said? It was a compliment! She said:
'_How splendid your brother Ben can row!_' He! he! Now lend me your
gimlet just a minute!"

Ah, that dignified Ben! Not