"I think they have some advantage over us, that way," Dick nodded. "At the same time I am certain that we ought to beat Preston by beating their style of paddling."
"Beating their style of paddling?" echoed Reade. "Why, according to what you've told us we can't even equal their paddling."
"We're going to equal it," Dick answered, "and we ought to beat it. At two o'clock, fellows, we're going out for two hours of drill. Then I'll try to explain what I think I saw of the Preston superiority in dipping and recovery. If I really observed correctly, then we ought to be able to do much better, for I also think I see how to improve on the Preston High School paddle work enough to make their performance look almost clumsy."
"If you can do that," proclaimed Hazelton ungrudgingly, "then you're a wonder, Dick."
"We shall see," smiled the big chief.
"And if we don't see straight," mumbled Reade, "then Preston will hand us such a wallop that we won't even have the nerve to take up a challenge from Trentville High School."
For the rest of the morning Dick & Co. were much more thoughtful than usual. They had met defeat—-a thing they didn't relish. Yet they knew, in advance, how much worse they would feel if they met a defeat when officially entered as a Gridley High School crew—-for the honor of their school was dear to them all.
The noonday meal was over before one o'clock. Dick would not allow the "Scalp-hunter" to be put in the water a minute before two. He wanted to be sure that digestion had proceeded far enough so that they might do their best.
At the time appointed, however, he took the crew out on the water, and there carefully explained what he thought he had learned of the better paddling style of the Preston High School boys.
"You certainly did see a whole lot that I didn't see," Reade admitted, "and I believe that you saw it straight, too, Dick."