Ward, much against his will, was entered in the fat swimmer's class for children. Margy, who had resolutely refused to learn to swim, cheerfully entered the novice class. Polly and Fred were registered in the boys' and girls' classes, for swimmers of their age. Artie cast his lot with the youngest beginners, and Jess was to be in the floaters' race.
"Captain Mooney gives the prizes every year," said Carrie Pepper, whom they met as they were coming out of the post-office. "I'm going in and so is Mattie. Are you?"
They said they were, and Carrie volunteered the information that Joe Anderson expected to win the prize for the boys' class and that Albert Holmes was going to float.
"I suppose Captain Mooney will be a judge—some one said he had consented to serve this year," Carrie chattered on. "Have you seen Ella lately?"
"No, Captain Mooney sent his car over for us, but we weren't home," said Margy, who no more could help saying that with an air than Carrie could, had the opportunity been reversed.
"I could shake you, Margy Williamson!" Polly declared indignantly, after they had left Carrie. "You sounded positively boastful."
"But I didn't say anything mean about Carrie, did I?" said Margy, with obvious pride.
Until the day set for the swimming races, the Riddle Club practically lived in the water. Their mothers united in making this statement. Of course a certain amount of practice was necessary for all except Margy, who would have disqualified herself by practice.
"But I hope you are not going to turn into ducks," said Mrs. Marley, pretending to be anxious.
Margy, the neatest needlewoman of the three girls, took pains to see that the letters on their suits were restitched tightly in place. She said that she wanted every one to see "R.C." plainly and to ask what it stood for.