“What is the prize?” inquired Ralph.
“Last year there were so many lucky fellows that we had to provide several of them,” was the reply. “The one that created the most fun was a pig in a bag. Noble captured that, and I tell you he had a time of it. You see, the pig was greased as well as the pole, and the bag was tied in such a way that when Noble dived for it—that was the only way he could get hold of it, you know—the mouth of the bag opened and the pig slipped out. Then the uproar began. Noble, who is a plucky fellow and a splendid swimmer, didn’t know that the pig was greased, and he tried for a long time to tow him ashore by one of his hind legs, but, of course, he couldn’t do it. At last he began to suspect something, and the way he larruped that pig over the head with the bag to make him turn toward the shore, was a caution. He finally succeeded in his object, and the instant the pig’s feet touched the beach, Noble sprung up, threw the bag over his head and secured him easy enough. Whatever you do, you mustn’t miss the greasy pole walk.”
“I suppose we shall be laughed at if we tumble off the pole into the water?”
“Certainly. That isn’t down in the programme, but it is a part of it, all the same.”
“How many trials does each contestant have?”
“Only two. You see, there are so many of us and so much fun in trying to secure the prize, that if we didn’t set some limit to the number of trials, the boys would keep on trying for an indefinite length of time.”
While the boys were talking in this way they had pushed Joe’s skiff out of the boat-house into the water, stepped the mast and unfurled the sail that was wrapped around it. Every thing being ready for the start, the little fleet set out for the opposite side of the lake, Tom and his cousins in the skiff, and Joe and his companions in their canoes. The skiff was made fast to Mr. Bigden’s pier, and a quarter of an hour later three more canoes shot out of the boat-house, and the trials of speed began. They continued nearly all the afternoon, and when the rival factions bade each other good-night and paddled off toward their respective boat-houses, there was a decided feeling of uneasiness among some of them, while the others were correspondingly confident and happy.
“It doesn’t seem possible that this is Bigden’s first season in a canoe,” said Sheldon, as soon as Tom and his cousins were out of hearing. “He is going to crowd the best of us this year, and if he keeps up his practice until the next meet, there won’t be a boy in the club who can touch him with a ten-foot pole. He’s going to make an expert.”
“I’ll just tell you what’s a fact,” said Loren, after the canoes had been wiped out and hoisted in their slings, “I am not so much afraid of Joe and his crowd as I was. I don’t think there will be any need of the fouling business. I kept pace with Hastings in spite of all he could do to shake me off, and could have passed him if I had let out a little more strength.”
“That shows how much you know about these things,” said Tom, in reply. “Do you suppose that Hastings did the best he could? I kept up with Joe without any very great exertion, but I don’t crow over it. They had plenty of speed in reserve, but you will have to wait till the day of the races if you want to see what they are capable of.”