the water.
"What do you call your boat?"

"The 'Scalp-hunter'," smiled Dick. As a matter of fact he and
his friends had forgotten to name the canoe, but he supplied the
name on the spur of the moment. It made a prompt hit with his
chums.

"You don't believe you can win any race with such paddling as
yours, do you?" Hartwell called derisively.

"We don't show all our fine points to the enemy until the battle
is on," was Prescott's amiable answer. "Even then you won't see
all our best tricks; you'll be too busy paddling to keep in sight
of us."

Only very gradually did Dick allow his crew to warm up to their
work. The Preston boys soon paddled over to the middle of the
lake, and there lay resting.

"Now, we'll go back and give them a brush," Dick murmured to his
chums. "Don't exceed any orders that I give in the brush. Don't
be at all uneasy if we find the Prestons going ahead of us."

"Haven't we got to win?" queried Dave.

"Especially after all the brag we've been throwing in their
direction?" Tom supplemented.

"We'll win if we can do it easily," Dick answered. "Otherwise
we won't."

"Then what becomes of our Gridley talk?" asked Greg.

"The difference is that this isn't a real race to-day," Prescott
explained. "This is only a brush, and we're in it only to see
what the Preston boys can show us about canoe handling."

At a rather slow, easy dip, the "Scalp-hunter" ranged up near
the "Pathfinder."

"All ready there, Gridley?" called Hartwell rather impatiently.

"As ready as we're going to be," said Dick.

"Flying start, or from a stop?"

"Either," Dick nodded.

"Then," proposed Hartwell, "move along until your prow is flush
with ours. When I give the word both crews paddle for all they're
worth. Steer for the two blasted pines at the lower end of the
lake."

"That's good," Dick agreed.

Very gently the war canoe ranged alongside, her bark sides,
well-oiled, glistening in the sunlight. The Preston canoe was not
of bark, but of cedar frame, covered with canvas.

Hartwell evidently wanted a wholly fair race, for he even allowed
the "Scalp-hunter's" prow the lead of a couple of feet before
he shouted:

"Go it!"

Amid a great flashing of paddles the two canoes started. The
Preston High School craft soon obtained a lead of a foot or so,
and held it. Now the contest was a stubborn one. Gridley gained
two feet more.

"You see," called Dick in a low voice, "this is the Gridley wa