Friday, if pleasant, was the date chosen, the seven-fellow race to begin as soon as possible after two P.M., the personal race between Prescott and Martin to follow.  Such details as choosing the officials of the race were to be left to the principals of the two schools.

“It’s all settled, then, gentlemen,” said Spencer, rising and holding out his right hand.  “If you don’t see me before you may be sure of my being on hand to report the races themselves.  I shall do all I can to encourage schoolboy sports in Gridley.  I’ve a notion, too, that there will be on hand Friday a goodly showing of High School athletes.  The young men of the High School will naturally want to look over the contestants and see who is going to make good material for the High School teams.”

“I’m thankful to say,” retorted Hi stiffly, “that I do not expect to attend Gridley High School.  My father is going to send me to one of the best prep. schools in the country.  Page and Rodgers are going to good schools, too.”

“I hope none of your fathers will be disappointed,” remarked Spencer gravely.  “Personally, I consider the Gridley High School one of the best schools in the United States.”

“It will do, of course, for those who really can’t afford to go to better and more select schools,” Hi conceded.  “Prescott, look out that you don’t get drowned when you’re practicing to beat me on Friday.”

“I’m not really sure that I shall practice swimming before Friday,” Dick smiled in answer.  “I’m going to be pretty busy until after graduation.”

“Dick,” asked Greg seriously, when the three chums were by themselves, “have you any idea in the world that you can win out against Hi Martin?”

“Oh, I may not win,” Prescott replied.  “Yet, if I don’t I’ll promise you to be the hardest pace-maker that Hi Martin ever had behind him in the water.”

Chapter XXI

OLD DUT GIVES WISE COUNSEL

Boys attired in their best tip-toed about in creaking new shoes, resplendently polished for the occasion.  Every boy had a flower in his upper button-hole.

Exhibition Hall, usually so bare and barnlike in appearance, was now a jungle of potted plants and ferns, with clumps of bright flowers everywhere.

Over the broad stage hung a fourteen-foot American flag.  Flags of other nations, in smaller bits of bunting, trailed off on either side.  The piano stood before the center of the stage, down on the floor.  Grouped near were the music stands and chairs for other members of the orchestra on this festal day of graduation.

Here and there women teachers still superintended little squads of girls who were putting on the last bright touches of ornamentation.  One teacher was drilling a dozen much-dressed-up boys of the seventh grade, who were to act as ushers on this great Thursday afternoon.  It was half an hour before the doors were to be opened.