could be seen at a glance that it was a much speedier boat than the "Rambler." "I'll wager that Mr. Wingate examined our boat so that he could get a better one," said Bob, earnestly. "But it scarcely seems possible that he would make Nat such a handsome present," declared Dave. "And Wingate was always protesting about his uncle's stinginess, too," put in Tom. Then he added: "Are you going to let them pass us?" "By the look of things, it can't be helped," responded Bob, grimly. Just then the sound of Nat's familiar voice reached their ears. He was standing at the bow, holding a huge megaphone, while one of his chums frantically waved a gaudily colored flag. "Halloa there!" shouted Nat, using his funnel-shaped instrument to good effect. "Get out of the way! Don't block up the stream—this is the lightning express, and nothing can stop it. Hurrah for the Nimrod Club!" This shout was echoed lustily by his companions. "So this is the Nimrod Club," commented Bob. "They certainly seem to be enjoying themselves." Of this there could be no doubt. The exuberance of Nat and his chums, judging from their language and actions, was on the point of overflowing. The rival boat, headed toward them, its graceful lines sparkling where the water had splashed upon it, was soon close at hand. Suddenly, the chug-chug ceased, and the "Nimrod" glided gracefully across the bow of the "Rambler." "The Nimrod Club of Kingswood greets the Ramblers!" shouted Nat, with unnecessary force; and he bowed mockingly. His brown eyes danced with excitement and triumph. "And the Rambler Club salutes the Nimrods!" laughed Bob, although he was not a little apprehensive that the arrival of Nat and his followers boded them no good. "Do you want a tow-line?" spoke up their leader. "Say, is your old tub fast enough for you to know which way it's going?" added John Hackett. The Nimrods all thought this very funny, and laughed uproariously. "Safety before speed," said Dave Brandon, blithely. "When you get swamped, boys, just call for us."
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