The Go Ahead Boys in the Island Camp Part 32

"I made an error of judgment and yours was nothing but luck," retorted Fred. "I want you to remember that, too."

The boats were now returning to their moorings and when they had been made fast the crews went ash.o.r.e and met on the dock to talk things over.

"You boys certainly have the closest finishes I've ever seen," exclaimed Mr. Maxwell. "You don't try to fix them that way, do you?"

"Not if we can help it, I tell you," said Thomas laughingly. "I thought we were going to win this last race."

"So did we," exclaimed Grant. "You would have won, too, if it hadn't been for George here. At least that's what he says, anyway."

"What did he do?" inquired Mr. Maxwell curiously.

"I scratched the mast," said George.

"'Scratched the mast'!" exclaimed Mr. Maxwell. "Why did you do that?"

"To bring us more wind."

"You must be superst.i.tious," laughed Mr. Maxwell.

"Well," said George, "I never used to be, but I am sort of that way now; it worked so beautifully."

"Where did you ever hear of such a thing?"

"I read about it in some book and as things looked pretty desperate for us I thought I'd try it."

"You mean to say that all you have to do when you want a breeze is to go up and scratch the mast?"

"Oh, I don't think it would work every time," laughed George. "I guess it will give you help only when you need it very badly. If you tried it all the time I suppose you'd soon wear out the charm."

"Well, you won, anyway," said Mr. Maxwell laughingly. "That makes you all tied with four and a half points for each team. The swimming race will have to decide it."

"Is every one ready for that now?" asked Grant.

"The red team is ready for anything," laughed Thomas.

"All right," said Mr. Maxwell. "The race will start just as soon as possible and remember that the points will be decided, three for first, two for second, and one for third this time."

CHAPTER XXII-A STRANGE PERFORMANCE

A course had been measured one hundred and seventy-five yards in length.

The start was from a large rock that stood out of the water some fifteen yards off sh.o.r.e and the finish was at the dock.

The contestants made their way to the starting point by way of the sh.o.r.e; at least they walked until they came to a spot directly opposite the big rock and then waded out as far as possible, swimming the last few yards. Before many moments had elapsed the eight boys were lined up in a row waiting for the signal. Mr. Maxwell stood on the dock, a pistol in his hand.

"We're counting on you, Grant," John had said as they walked along the sh.o.r.e. "You've simply got to win."

"Suppose I do," said Grant. "That'll mean three points for us and unless we take one of the other places, too, that'll give the red team three points. If that happens the meet will end in a tie."

"Maybe George can get a place. He's not a bad swimmer, you know."

"I know he isn't, but you're just as good yourself."

"The trouble is we've never seen these other fellows swim and we have no idea whether they're any good or not."

"Well, if we do our best we shan't have any reason to kick, I guess,"

laughed Grant.

He was far and away the best swimmer of the four Go Ahead boys, and so often had he proved his superiority over them that it was now taken for granted. He was the only one who had mastered the crawl stroke. He knew it so well that it was almost second nature to him now, but to his three companions it still remained a mystery. That it is not an easy thing to acquire will be vouched for by any one who has attempted it. Fred was a wretched swimmer and knew perfectly well that he stood no chance in the race; he entered merely because he did not wish to miss anything. John and George were about on a par, both of them good average performers, but nothing more.

"All ready?" shouted Mr. Maxwell through his megaphone.

"Everybody ready?" asked Thomas.

Every one said he was and Thomas waved his hand to the judge. All eyes were fixed upon the figure standing on the dock, his right arm upraised with the pistol in his hand.

They had not long to wait. A flash and then the sharp report of the revolver, and almost together eight gleaming white bodies. .h.i.t the water.

Fred was the one exception; his position had been next to George and when the signal for the start was given he had been a trifle slow in diving.

A mad scramble ensued the moment all the contestants were in the water together and there was much splashing and confusion. Fred was behind the others and consequently bore the brunt of the whole mixup. He had not taken two strokes when George, who was ahead of him, struck him violently in the stomach with his foot.

It was a powerful blow and well nigh knocked all the wind right out of Fred's body. "Ugh!" he groaned and sank from sight.

George turned in alarm to see who it was that had been on the receiving end of his effort and was just in time to see Fred reappear puffing and gasping. This sight seemed to tickle George immensely and he began to laugh. Fred choked and gargled and wheezed and try as he would, George could not control his laughter.

Meanwhile the other six contestants were far ahead and one glance convinced George that he and Fred were hopelessly out of the race.

"What's the matter with you?" exclaimed Fred angrily.

"I didn't mean to kick you," said George, and once more he burst into loud and uncontrollable laughter.

"I'm not talking about that," cried Fred even more aroused by the spectacle of his friend's mirth. "Why did you drop out of the race?"

"I got laughing so when I saw your face that I forgot all about the race and everything else. I never saw such a funny sight in all my life."

"Huh," snorted Fred. "You're a nice one. We'll probably lose the meet on account of you."

"I couldn't help it," cried George, and once more he began to laugh. "I just started laughing and I couldn't stop."

"Come ash.o.r.e before you drown, you idiot!" exclaimed Fred, and side by side they made their way to land.

The other contestants were now strung out in a long line. Grant was easily in the lead and it seemed a foregone conclusion that he would win the race. Like some great fish he plowed through the water. His feet worked fast and evenly while his hands reached out with a great sweep and drove him speedily along. His face was under water most of the time; every few strokes he rolled over on one side, sucked in a great mouthful of air and then continued as before.

The real race was for second place and there were three in it. Hugh, Thomas, and John went along almost abreast. John could see that Grant would win the race easily enough, but he realized that in order to win the meet it was necessary for him to finish at least third. He was a good swimmer but was not a racer. Many times he had covered long distances in the water but had paid scant attention to developing his speed.