all our best tricks; you'll be too busy paddling to keep in sight
of us."

Only very gradually did Dick allow his crew to warm up to their
work. The Preston boys soon paddled over to the middle of the
lake, and there lay resting.

"Now, we'll go back and give them a brush," Dick murmured to his
chums. "Don't exceed any orders that I give in the brush. Don't
be at all uneasy if we find the Prestons going ahead of us."

"Haven't we got to win?" queried Dave.

"Especially after all the brag we've been throwing in their
direction?" Tom supplemented.

"We'll win if we can do it easily," Dick answered. "Otherwise
we won't."

"Then what becomes of our Gridley talk?" asked Greg.

"The difference is that this isn't a real race to-day," Prescott
explained. "This is only a brush, and we're in it only to see
what the Preston boys can show us about canoe handling."

At a rather slow, easy dip, the "Scalp-hunter" ranged up near
the "Pathfinder."

"All ready there, Gridley?" called Hartwell rather impatiently.