"Do you fellows think so?" asked Dick thoughtfully. "It seems
to me that we've done enough hard canoe work for to-day. We don't
want to go stale from too much training."
"But we can't---we mustn't lose the race on Saturday," almost
groaned Dave Darrin.
"Then we'll do better not to overtrain," said Dick quietly. "Unless
I hear a big kick I'm going to turn the canoe toward our camp."
There was no objection, though some of the members of Dick & Co.
frowned slightly. They had great confidence in Dick's judgment,
yet he seemed to them over cautious in training.
"I wish it were Saturday night," murmured Tom Reade, lying on
the grass full length, after they had landed.
"So that you'd know how it feels to be licked and to have your
school licked, too?" inquired Danny Grin.
"Stop that talk!" ordered Tom gruffly. "We're not going to be
beaten. We'd hardly dare show our faces again in Gridley if Preston
High School took us into camp."
"Then how will the Preston fellows feel if we distance 'em?" Greg
inquired.
"Oh, it won't matter as much over at Preston," Tom replied coolly.
"Preston hasn't such a big reputation for winning athletic events
as Gridley has."
"The more I think of it," muttered Dave, "the more I marvel at
our cheek. We are barely more than freshmen. As yet we've entered
the sophomore class only by promotion. Yet we get away from home
and immediately start in to fight under the Gridley colors, just
as though we were real juniors or seniors! My, but I'll hate
myself if we get walloped Saturday afternoon!"
"We'd all dislike ourselves," smiled Dick Prescott calmly.
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