Conrad was so intent upon his own work that he had not had an opportunity of watching his competitors.  When he had nearly reached the point selected on the other bank, he turned about and saw Andy close behind him.

Andy was not apparently exerting himself, but pulled a strong, steady stroke, and seemed quite free from excitement.  For the first time Conrad saw that he was a competitor not to be despised.

After the turn Conrad and Andy led the procession.  Next came Jimmy Morris, and last of all Dennis Carlyle.

The latter managed to catch a crab, and in his attempt to right himself tumbled into the water.

“Don’t mind me!” he called out humorously.  “I am only taking a bath.”

So the other contestants kept on, in the same order.

But this was not to continue.  Suddenly Andy made a spurt and forged ahead of Conrad.  The young aristocrat could hardly believe his eyes when he saw Valentine’s boat, impelled by a competitor whom he had despised, take the leading place.

He flushed with vexation and made a desperate effort to regain his lost position.  But he was excited, and did not use his strength to the best advantage.

To his great annoyance he saw that Andy was continuing to gain upon him, and that without any great effort.  His smooth, steady stroke was most effective.  Even the unpracticed eye could see his superiority to any of his competitors.

When the goal was reached he was five lengths ahead of Conrad, and twelve lengths ahead of Jimmy Morris.

It was a genuine surprise to the spectators, and a great shout went up.

“Three cheers for Andy Grant!”

Andy smiled, and he raised his hat in acknowledgment of the compliment.

Mr. Gale pressed forward and greeted the young victor.

“You have done yourself credit,” he said.  “You know how to row.  Where did you learn?”

“At Penhurst Academy; I was trained by a Harvard oarsman.”

“He understood his business, and so do you.  I have great pleasure in presenting you with the prize.”

With a sullen look Conrad listened to those words.  Without a word he sprang on shore, and, as soon as he could, turned his back upon the picnic.

“Conrad is terribly disappointed!” said Valentine.  “You have made yourself famous, Andy.”

CHAPTER VI.

A liberal offer.

Thoroughly mortified and crestfallen, Conrad went home.  He hoped to go up to his room without observation, but his father noticed his entrance.

“Well, Conrad,” he said, with a smile, “did you carry off the honors at the picnic?”

“No, I didn’t,” answered Conrad, bitterly.

“Did Valentine Burns defeat you?”

“No.”

“Who did win the prize?”

“Andy Grant.”

Squire Carter was amazed.