“I shouldn’t mind a swim,” said Tom.  “Who will go in with me”?

A dozen cadets were willing, including Dick, Larry, and Fred Garrison.  As it was off time, Larry, even though major, did not feel it necessary to “stand on his dignity.”

“I’m just going to be as I’ve always been,” he told the others.  “If I can’t be that, I don’t want to be major.”

Several tents had been erected close to the water’s edge, where the cadets might undress and don their bathing suits.  Tom was the first ready, and with a run he plunged into the lake head-first.

“It’s glorious!” he shouted, as he came up and shook the water from his head.  “Worth a dollar a minute.  Come on in!” And they came, one after another, without loss of more time.  The water was slightly cool, but the students at Putnam Hall were required to take cold baths weekly, so they did not mind the temperature.  Laughing and shouting gleefully they dove around in all directions, and then Tom suggested a race.

“Just the thing!” said another cadet.  “Where shall we race to”?

“Over to yonder rock and back,” answered Tom.  “Line up, everybody.  A stale biscuit to the winner and a sour cream puff for the last man.  All ready”?

There was a pause.

“Start!” yelled Tom, and made a wild splash that sent the water flying in all directions.

“A race!  A race!” shouted one of the students on the shore, and his cry soon brought a score or more of the others to the spot.

“I think Tom Rover will win that race.”

“I’ll bet on Major Larry.”

“Fred Garrison is ahead.  He’s the best swimmer in the school.”

“He can’t swim as well as Dick Rover.”

“I’ll bet Jackson wins,” came from Lew Flapp, who was in the crowd on the beach.  Jackson, it will be remembered, was one of his particular cronies.

“Jackson can’t swim against Dick Rover,” came from Songbird Powell, who had hardly spoken to Flapp since the row at Mike Sherry’s resort.

“I’ll bet you a dollar he beats Rover,” replied the tall boy, in a low tone.

“I don’t bet, Flapp.”

“You’re afraid to bet,” sneered the tall boy.

This statement angered Powell and he quickly dove into his pocket and pulled out the sum mentioned.

“This is the time you lose, Flapp,” he said quietly.

Another student was made stakeholder and each boy passed over his money.

By this time the race was well underway.  Tom was still in the lead, but Jackson was close behind him, with Larry Colby third and Dick fourth.

“Go it, Tom, you are sure to win!” shouted one of his friends.

“Don’t know about that,” Tom returned pantingly.  “Guess I started too hard!” And soon he began to drop behind.

“Jackson is ahead!” was the next cry.

“Major Colby is a close second!”

“That is true, but Dick Rover is crawling up!”