on't hint at defeat!" shuddered Belle Meade. "We might be able
to stand a Gridley defeat, but the boys couldn't."

Preston's canoe now rested on the water, ready to be aligned at
the referee's order. Gridley's craft seemed to be straining as
she neared the line.

Suddenly three sharp, short, shrill blasts sounded from the whistle
of the judges' launch.

"Prescott!" roared the referee.

"Now, what's up, I wonder?" Dick asked himself, with another
sinking feeling at heart.

The judges' boat was making fast time toward the Gridley High
School entry.

CHAPTER XX

"DINKY-BAT! HOT SAIL!"

"Captain Prescott, what is wrong with your boat?" demanded Referee
Tyndall, as the judges' launch stole up close.

"Something seems to be wrong with us, I'll admit, sir," Dick made
answer. "I'll be greatly obliged to you, sir, if you'll tell me
what it is.

"What are you towing?" asked the referee bluntly.

"Towing?" repeated Dick in bewilderment.

"That's what I asked," repeated the referee. "When you came down
on this last spurt I'm sure that at one moment I saw a length
of line rise above the water astern of you. Then, further back,
I saw something else jerked to the surface."

"Why, we can't be towing anything," Dick insisted. "You saw our
canoe launched."

"Late start, if you don't line the canoes up at once, referee,"
warned the time-keeper.

But Mr. Tyndall had his own views.

"The starting time will be delayed," he announced sharply. "Captain
Prescott, take your canoe to the landing stage."

"All right, sir."

"Captain Hartwell you will follow."

"Very good, sir."

Going in to the landing stage Dick gave his crew an easy pace,
yet they were soon alongside the float.

"Now, take your canoe out of water, Gridley," commanded the referee,
stepping ashore from the launch. "I want a look at the craft."

Dick & Co. lifted the war canoe to the float bow first. Just
as the stern cleared the water a cry went up from scores of throats.

For the referee had grasped a line made fast to the bottom of
the canoe near the stern.

Hauling on that line he brought in several yards of it---then,
at the outer end of the line came a light blanket, dripping.
Through the middle of the blanket the end of the line had been
secured.

Dick Prescott gasped. His chums rubbed their eyes. Bob Hartwell,
who had landed, looked on in utter consternation.

"For the love of decency!" gasped Referee Tyndall. "Who