"Th-th-that's all r-r-r-r-right," chattered poor Foss, "I'm d-d-d-doing
f-f-f-fine here--c-c-c-couldn't h-help in the b-b-b-boat"

While lying to, it had taken some fine management on the part of the
midshipmen to keep the sailboat from capsizing. And now, on this rough,
wave-strewn river, they had to tack back against a nearly head wind.

"Look at the crowd on the clubhouse float," gasped Dan as soon as the
Naval chums had gotten their craft under way.

"Good thing," muttered Darrin. "We'll need plenty of help."

"I wonder how the crowd got wind of the thing in such short time?"

"You forget," nudged Darrin, "that there's a telephone in the clubhouse.
Laura and Belle are not given to losing their heads. Undoubtedly they've
been 'phoning to Gridley."

"Then they can't have overlooked the need of physicians," ventured Dan,
"especially as Laura is the daughter of one."

As the boat drew nearer to the float the noise of cheers was borne to the
ears of the midshipmen.

"More of the hero racket," uttered Dan disgustedly.

"I hope this won't get into the newspapers," grunted Darrin in a tone of
something like real alarm. "Say, the fellows of the brigade wouldn't do
a thing but make us mount chairs and read all the fulsome gush about