"Just the thing!" said another cadet. "Where shall we race to"?
"Over to yonder rock and back," answered Tom. "Line up, everybody. A stale biscuit to the winner and a sour cream puff for the last man. All ready"?
There was a pause.
"Start!" yelled Tom, and made a wild splash that sent the water flying in all directions.
"A race! A race!" shouted one of the students on the shore, and his cry soon brought a score or more of the others to the spot.
"I think Tom Rover will win that race."
"I'll bet on Major Larry."
"Fred Garrison is ahead. He's the best swimmer in the school."
"He can't swim as well as Dick Rover."
"I'll bet Jackson wins," came from Lew Flapp, who was in the crowd on the beach. Jackson, it will be remembered, was one of his particular cronies.