“Oh, that’s fine! And shall we have that field day?”
“Later on, before we go home, yes. But he began teasing me again yesterday, and I told him we’d have a water carnival any time he wanted to bring his boys over. And he said they’d come Saturday.”
“We’ll have to get ready and show them what we can do, then,” said Margery Burton, with determination in her voice. “My brother’s a Boy Scout, and I know just what they’re like; they think we’re just the same as all the other girls they know. I tell you what would be fun; to get up a baseball team.”
“Maybe we’ll try that later,” said Eleanor. “But right now we want to be ready for Saturday. So I’ll teach you everything I can. And I’m quite sure we can beat them in a life-saving drill; their three best against our three. We’d have you, Margery, and Bessie, and Dolly Ransom.”
So it was agreed, and they all began to practice.
“I wish I could do something,” said Zara, wistfully. “But I don’t believe I could learn to swim before Saturday.”
“You could learn to keep yourself afloat,” said Margery. “But that wouldn’t be much good, of course. You’d rather not go in at all, I suppose, unless you could really swim.”
“I know what I could do, though,” said Zara, suddenly, after she had watched Bessie go through the life saving drill. But she would not confide her idea to anyone but Miss Mercer, who looked more than doubtful when she heard it.
“I don’t know, Zara,” she said, “I’ll see. It seems a little risky. But I’ll think it over. It would be splendid, but, well, we’ll see.”
Speed swimming, pure racing, was barred when Saturday came. But with Scoutmaster Hastings and Miss Mercer as referees, and three summer visitors from the Loon Pond Hotel, who had no prejudice in favor of either side as judges, several contests were arranged that called for skill rather than strength.
“In this diving,” Hastings explained to the judges, “what we want to figure on is the way they do it. If a dive is graceful, and the diver strikes the water true, going straight down, with arms and legs held close together, you give so many points for that. I’ll make each dive first; that will serve as a model, you see.”
Scoutmaster Hastings was not speaking in a boastful manner. He was a noted diver, and had won prizes and medals in many meets for his skill. And, when everything was arranged, he did all the standard dives from the spring-board at the end of the dock, and three members of each organization followed him.
Bessie had taken remarkably well to these new tricks, as she considered them. Her powers as a swimmer no one had questioned, but it was remarkable to see how quickly she had acquired the ability to dive well and gracefully. And, to the surprise and chagrin of the Boy Scouts, who had expected, as boys always do, when they are pitted against girls, to win so easily that they could afford to be magnanimous, and to abstain from gloating, the judges were unanimous in deciding that she had done better than any of the six competitors in all five of the standard dives in which Hastings showed the way.