The cadets from Colby Hall were on their way to the boat-landing, where they intended to embark on several motor boats which were to take them across Clearwater Lake to where the military academy they attended was located. Behind them came a motley collection of other cadets and spectators in general, including not a few girls from Clearwater Hall. Two of the members of the ball team—the second baseman and the right fielder—carried between them an object carefully wrapped in a bit of dark cloth. This object was a tall silver vase beautifully engraved. It had been put up as a prize by the owners of the rival institutions of learning on the lake, and now, having been won three times by the Colby Hall nine, had become the permanent property of that organization.
“What will we do with the vase, now we’ve won it?” questioned Fred.
“Better melt it up and make souvenirs of it,” suggested Randy Rover, with a smile. “Each cadet might get a medal the size of a quarter, stamped, ‘In Memory of the Time that We Licked Longley out of Its Boots,’” and at this there was a general laugh.
“I guess we’ll have to put it in that glass case in the gymnasium along with the other Hall trophies,” said Gif. “It doesn’t belong to any one in particular, you know. It belongs to the whole school.”
When the cadets reached the lake front they began to separate because the various motor boats were tied up at different landings. As the four Rover boys went forward they heard a girlish cry behind them and, turning, saw four young ladies hurrying toward them.
“Oh, Jack! Wait a minute!” cried Ruth Stevenson, a tall and exceedingly good-looking girl, as she came up and extended her hand. “I want to congratulate you on your splendid victory. It was simply great!”
She caught the young major’s hand and squeezed it warmly.
“Oh, Fred, to think you really won that trophy!” burst out May Powell, another of the girls. “Oh, I could just have hugged somebody when I heard the good news!”
“Dad will be awfully glad to hear of this new victory of yours, Jack,” said Martha Rover.
“I’m going to write a long letter home to-night,” added Fred’s sister Mary quickly. “I’m just going to let them know what real heroes you two boys are.”