"Oh, but I'm tired!" muttered Darrin, after they had beached the canoe. "This green grass looks inviting."
He threw himself down at full length on the grass.
"Up, for yours," commanded Dick, grasping him by one arm and pulling Dave to his feet. "Don't you know that your blood is almost at fever heat after the strain of the race? Do you want to get a chill that will keep the whole camp up to-night?"
"I want to lie down," muttered Darrin. "And I want to sleep."
"Then get off your racing clothes, put on your other clothes, then roll yourself well in your blankets and lie down in the tent," Dick ordered. "That's what I'm going to do."
Now that the strain was over every member of Dick & Co. found himself so weary that the putting on of ordinary clothes was a process which proceeded slowly. After a while, however, all six had rolled themselves in their blankets and lay on the leaf-piled floor of the tent.
All but Dick and Harry were asleep, presently, when an automobile stopped near the camp.
"Anyone at home?" called Referee Tyndall, poking his head in past the flap of the tent and viewing the recumbent lads. "All here? That's good. I'm a committee of one, sent over here by the Gridley folks at the hotel. They're ordering a supper and they want you boys to come over promptly. You're to be the guests of honor."
"Will you be good enough to present the Gridley people with our best thanks," returned Dick promptly, rising to greet the referee, "and ask them very kindly to excuse us? Assure them, please, that we're in strict training, with more races to come, and that banquets would perhaps spoil us for the next race."
"I'm afraid I'll have difficulty in getting that message through," protested Mr. Tyndall. "Your Gridley friends are bound to have you over at the hotel."