"Well, I fancy Tim did have to swallow hard once or twice before he could bring himself up to the point of challenging 'The Arrow.' But, you see, so many of the fellows are interested and have talked so much about the two bobs that Tim probably couldn't stand it any longer. So the upshot of it all is that he wants a race."
"I think we can accommodate him," said Ward. "When does he want it to come off?"
"Next Saturday afternoon's the time he mentioned. I suppose we can suit ourselves about that, though. When do you think is the best time?"
"Oh, that'll do as well as any. That is, if the weather holds good. How many are to be in each party?"
"We shall have you and me, of course, and then there'll be Luscious, and Henry, and Big and Little Smith, and Puddle and his big brother. That'll be eight all together."
"Why do you take the little fellows?"
"Oh, it'll be fun for them," replied Jack. "Tim'll carry the same number, eight."
"Yes, but his load will be heavier. Little Pond and Little Smith are both so light that they won't count for very much, I'm afraid."
"Oh well, never mind that. They'll get some fun out of it anyhow, and that'll be almost as good as winning the race. But I'm not afraid, even if Tim does have a heavier load. I guess 'The Arrow' will cleave the air all right."
The race was soon arranged and at once became the exciting topic in the school life. Three days only intervened and the boys of the rival parties were not idle. Daily they went up on West Hill, and Jack tried several new methods of steering, while Ward practised the "send-off," upon which they all relied.