around here.”

“It’s deep enough to drown in. If you don’t believe it, stand on the bottom and find out.” And then there was a general laugh.

The race between the cadets of Putnam Hall and the boys from Pornell Academy was now about to start. Crack! went the pistol and down into the clear waters of Cayuga Lake went the oars.

“They are off!”

“And Putnam Hall leads!” came the cry half a minute later.

It was true, almost from the start Putnam Hall led by half a length. The oarsmanship of the crew was perfect, and the lead was held for the first half of the race.

“Oh, if only they can keep it up!” cried Pepper.

“Go it, boys, go it!” yelled Jack. “You’ve got to win!”

“Show ’em what Putnam Hall can do!” cried Andy.

On and on flew the two boats. Putnam Hall was still ahead, but only a few inches.

“We’re going to lose the lead!” cried Harry Blossom. “Too bad!”

“Are we?” came from Dave Kearney. “Not much! How is that for a spurt?”

As he spoke the captain of the Putnam Hall crew spoke to his fellows, and in a twinkling the time of the stroke was increased. Straight to the front leaped the boat, until the stern was even with the bow of the rival’s craft.

“They are going ahead!”

“Hurrah for Putnam Hall!”

“Pull, Pornell, pull! You’ve got to win!”

So the cries ran on and the crew of the Pornell boat did their best to increase their stroke. But they could not overtake Putnam Hall and when the line was crossed the latter was the winner by two lengths and a half.

A wild din went up. Horns tooted, rattles clacked loudly, and cheer after cheer rent the air.

“That’s the way to beat ’em!”

“Pornell wasn’t in it from start to finish!”

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