At the “Y” swimming pool, Dan Carter and the Cubs lounged against the tiled wall, awaiting the signal for start of the long-awaited Pack meet.
The gallery was jammed with spectators, for parents and friends of both teams had turned out in large numbers to witness this decisive contest of the season. A large silver cup, to be awarded the winning Den, stood on a table in plain view of the swimmers.
“Gosh, I sure hope we can win that beautiful baby,” Midge said, gazing longingly at the trophy. “Dan, we’re depending on you to do your stuff!”
“I’ll sure try,” Dan replied, shivering in his wet suit. “But you know Ross! He’s jet propelled. Furthermore, he hasn’t forgotten how we won that last meet.”
As the boys talked, Ross himself sauntered past. He paused to hitch up his trunks and fix Dan with an amused eye.
“It’s going to be too bad for you, little shrimp,” he jeered. “This time, you won’t win on a fluke! In fact, you won’t win. Period.”
“Don’t be too sure,” Midge cut in. “Take a look at the events that have been posted.”
“What’s different about ’em?” Ross demanded suspiciously.
“The coaches got together and substituted a 75-yard free style for the 50-yard. They figure it’s a better test of swimming form. In the shorter distance, a good turn at the wall gives a fellow a big advantage.”
“No one told me about changing the distance,” Ross muttered. “I’m going to find out about this!”