"Is it?" Hartwell inquired. "Hanky-pank!"

Plainly enough the last two words were a signal. Though the Preston
High School boys did not make much visible change in their style
or speed of dip, the "Pathfinder" now gained perceptibly. Within
a minute she had a lead of a clean ten feet, and seemed likely
to increase the interval.

"Why don't you come along, Gridley?" called back the big chief
in the leading canoe.

"Too early," smiled Dick. Nor did he allow the Gridley boys to
increase their speed. Presently the "Pathfinder" led by two lengths.

"Why didn't you tell us," Hartwell demanded over his shoulder,
"that the much vaunted Gridley way is 'way to the rear?"

"We haven't reached the pines yet, have we?" Dick asked.

"No; and you won't, to-day, unless you push that clumsy tub of
yours along faster."

"Don't wait for us," Dick answered goodnaturedly. "We'll be here
after a little while."

"We'll wait for you when we land," laughed Hartwell. "Mumble
bumble!"

Another secret signal, surely, for again the "Pathfinder" began
to increase the distance from the Gridley rival.