"Yes," claimed Hi.
"Then what sort of a swimming contest do you propose?" Len asked.
"Each school to appoint its best swimmer, and arrange a half-mile race between the champions of the two schools," Hi answered promptly. "The school whose champion wins is to be declared the champion in swimming."
"We expected that," nodded Dick, "and we won't agree to it. If this match is to be held for the school championship, then there should be several boys entered from each school——say five, six or seven from each school. Then the contest would really represent the schools."
"But one boy would win, just the same, in any case," retorted
Martin. "What difference would it make?"
"The way that I propose," urged Dick, "no single boy could win for his school. Suppose we enter seven boys from each school. Then the school whose seven boys are in ahead of the seven boys on the other side will win the contest. In other words, of the fourteen swimmers, one is bound to come in last of all. The school to which this last-in swimmer belongs is the school that loses the match."
"Huh! I don't see anything in that idea," retorted Hi. "That, perhaps, wouldn't mean anything at all for the school that happened to have the one best swimmer of all."
"It would make it impossible for either school to enter one real swimmer and six dummies, and still win the match," Dick argued. "My plan will stop the contest from being a one-boy race and will give the contest to the school that has the best average swimmers."
"Huh! I don't see it," said Hi doggedly.
"I think Prescott has the better of the argument," broke in Len
Spencer, who had sat tapping his desk with a pencil.