“Hurrah! that’s the way to do it!”

“Every inch counts, boys!”

“Watch your chance for another!”

“Get it back, Pepper!  Get it back!”

There followed another tense strain.  Then Dale’s team came up once more and brought rope in another six inches.

“That’s the way to do it!  Now then, a good, stiff pull and you’ll have ’em over!”

“Wake up, Pepper!  It’s time you and your men got on the job!” cried Henry Lee.

“I knew Dale’s team would win,” said Paxton.

Hardly had Paxton spoken when Dale’s team came up for another haul.  But this time Pepper and his men were on the alert, and in a twinkling they commenced to haul in—­six inches, a foot, a foot and a half and then two feet—­and then they dropped, the strain being as much as they could stand.

“Hurrah!  Look at that!”

“They got back all they lost and more!”

“Hold ’em, Dale!  Stone foundation!”

A great many cries arose.  Dale and his supporters braced back as well as they could.  Then Dale gave the word to come up for another haul.

Back and forth went the rope, the center knot first on one side of the line and then on the other.  For several minutes it looked as if Dale’s team might win.  But then the tide turned again, and with a strength that was surprising, Pepper’s team gave “a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull all together,” and brought the center knot over the winning line.

“Hurrah!  Pepper Ditmore’s team wins!”

“Say, that was a great tug, wasn’t it?”

“My foot slipped!” said one of Dale’s supporters.

“So did mine,” same from a cadet on the other side.

“It was a fair contest,” said Frank Barringer.  “Pepper Ditmore’s team wins.  My private opinion is, both sides did well,” he added.

“They certainly did,” was Mr. Strong’s comment.  He had watched the contest with interest.

After the tug-of-war came a contest on the flying rings.  Here Andy was in his element, and the acrobatic youth easily outdistanced all of his competitors.

“Very good, indeed, Snow,” said the gymnastic instructor.  “Really, you go at it as if you were a professional.”

“Say, Andy, some day you can join the circus,” suggested the young major.

“Maybe his folks came from a circus,” sneered Nick Paxton.  “It isn’t fair to bring in a professional.”

“Sour grapes, Paxton!” cried Stuffer.  “You know that Andy Snow’s father is a business man in the city.  Andy just takes to gymnastic exercises, that’s all.”

“Humph!  I don’t think such an exhibition much!”

“Just the same, Paxton, you’d give a good deal to do as well,” retorted the youth who loved to eat, and turned his back on the other cadet.