y determined; then came Andy, plump and pink, with
his fair hair ruffled, and a laughing retort on his lips for every sally
that was sent in his direction. Last came the Honorable Percival, a
distinguished figure in immaculate array, wearing upon his aristocratic
features a look of contemptuous superiority.

"What are the rules of the game?" he inquired, looking into space.

"There's just one rule," called Captain Boynton from the
background--"Get there."

"The American motto, I believe," said Percival, quietly, and the crowd
laughed.

The Scot was the first to start, and Percival watched anxiously to see
the nature of the race he had entered. He saw his adversary dash forward
as the signal sounded, climb over a pile of upturned chairs, scramble
under a table, scale a high net fence, then disappear around the deck,
only to emerge later from the mouth of a funnel-shaped tunnel, through
which his contortions had been followed by shrieks of merriment.

Percival realized too late what he had let himself in for. Not for
worlds would he have subjected himself to such buffoonery had he known.
It was not the sport of a gentleman; it was the play of a circus clown!
He watched with horrified disgust as the Scot's grimy face and tousled
head emerged from the canvas cavern.

"Four minutes and five seconds," called the umpire.

Andy Black stepped confidently forward amid a burst of applause.

"The champion Roly-Poly of the Pacific," some one called.

"The _Saluria's_ Little Sunbeam," suggested another.

Andy smiled blandly, and kissed his fingertips. The signal sounded, and
he bounded off, bouncing from one obstacle to another like a rubber
ball. It was only in the twenty-yard dash from the net fence to the
canvas tunnel that he lost ground.

"Four minutes, two seconds," announced the umpire as Andy scrambled out
on all fours.

At that moment Percival would willingly have exchanged places with the
grimiest stoker in the hold. Was it possible that he had, of his own
accord, placed himself in this absurd and undignified position for the
sole purpose of defeating a common, commercial traveler who had dared to
deflect the natural course of a certain damsel's smiles! He writhed
under the ignominy of it. What if he were defeated? What if--

The signal sounded, and instinctively he hurled himself forward. As he
scrambled over the upturned chairs he heard a sound that struck terror
to his soul: it was the unmistakable hiss of