“If he is, tricks won’t help him or his school,” laughed Len.  “We’ll see this thing put through in regular shape.”

So, on Tuesday afternoon, Dick and his fellow members of the committee were at the “Blade” office punctually.

At ten minutes past the time no boy from the North Grammar had appeared.

“You won’t have to wait much longer,” smiled Len.  “It looks as though the North Grammar boys were bluffing.”

At ten minutes of five Dick and his chums rose to leave the “Blade” office.

“Wait a minute,” urged Len at the door.  “I believe I see your rivals coming now.”

Hi Martin, Bill Rodgers and Courtney Page strolled rather indolently up to the door and entered.

“You’re late,” said Len crisply.  “If you boys go into a race, I believe you’ll be just as late at the finish.”

“There wasn’t any use in hurrying,” grunted Eel.  “There’s lots of the day left.”

“Unless you regard an appointment as a gentlemen’s agreement, and to be kept,” marked Len Spencer, rather severely.  “I have been giving up my time to this affair of yours, and my time is worth something.  But take seats.  Have you boys any paper to show that you represent your school?”

“Yes,” admitted Hi, producing an envelope.  “Our principal gives us the proper authority.”

Len read the note, nodding.  “The Central Grammar boys have also produced their authority to act, so now we can get down to the details of the contest.  The North Grammar boys are the challengers, are they not?”

“Yes,” claimed Hi.

“Then what sort of a swimming contest do you propose?” Len asked.

“Each school to appoint its best swimmer, and arrange a half-mile race between the champions of the two schools,” Hi answered promptly.  “The school whose champion wins is to be declared the champion in swimming.”

“We expected that,” nodded Dick, “and we won’t agree to it.  If this match is to be held for the school championship, then there should be several boys entered from each school——­say five, six or seven from each school.  Then the contest would really represent the schools.”

“But one boy would win, just the same, in any case,” retorted Martin.  “What difference would it make?”

“The way that I propose,” urged Dick, “no single boy could win for his school.  Suppose we enter seven boys from each school.  Then the school whose seven boys are in ahead of the seven boys on the other side will win the contest.  In other words, of the fourteen swimmers, one is bound to come in last of all.  The school to which this last-in swimmer belongs is the school that loses the match.”

“Huh!  I don’t see anything in that idea,” retorted Hi.  “That, perhaps, wouldn’t mean anything at all for the school that happened to have the one best swimmer of all.”

“It would make it impossible for either school to enter one real swimmer and six dummies, and still win the match,” Dick argued.  “My plan will stop the contest from being a one-boy race and will give the contest to the school that has the best average swimmers.”