"Just as though Ward wasn't always fat!" the justly indignant Jess exclaimed. "He's fat in River Bend, the same as here."
At the word, the fat youngsters started, and in their way they were quite as funny as the novice class. They knew something of the swimming strokes, but in their desire to win they abandoned skill in favor of speed and in three seconds most of them were floundering hopelessly.
Ward paid no attention to any one. Desperately he struggled on, his breath coming in gasps, his face red with his exertions.
"All I thought about," he told his comrades afterward, "was keeping a straight line."
This was an excellent thought, in fact, for most of the swimmers went far out of their course and one ambitious competitor actually drifted out beyond the safety mark and had to be rescued by a watchful life guard.
"Go to it, Ward!" Fred shouted suddenly. "Straight ahead! Speed it up!"
Ward had been sure that he could not do another stroke, but now he opened his eyes and obediently "speeded up." A volley of cheers greeted his effort.
"Here, kid, you don't have to go on forever," some one said, reaching down and grabbing him by his belt. "You've won the race—let it go at that, can't you?"
"Gee! Did I win?" Ward's astonishment made his listeners laugh. "Do I get the prize?"
He was assured that he did, and when he saw Fred and Artie the precious gold piece was already in his hand.