"Deep breathing just as soon as we're at rest at the line," Dick
warned his chums. "At the start try to make the first breath
carry you for four strokes!"

In a short time the referee had the canoes with their noses at
the line, and at an interval from each other satisfactory to him.

"Thirty seconds to the start!" called the time-keeper. "Twenty
seconds!"

In the Gridley canoe each boy sat bent slightly forward, his paddle
raised at the proper position.

"Ten seconds!" called the starter. Then-----

Bang! Away shot the canoes. Over all other sounds could be heard
Dick's low-toned:

"One, two, three, four! One, two, three, four!"

The Preston boys heard him, and Dick noted, with amusement, that
they unconsciously adapted their own stroke to his count.

"Cut that numeral business," grunted Bob Hartwell, across the
water. "You're queering our fellows."

"They mustn't listen to our signals," Dick laughed back. "One,
two, three, four!"

"Come on, fellows; get ahead of that Gridley crowd, where we can't