“Serves him right,” said Fred approvingly. “He’s very much too fresh.”
George came to the surface, gasping and choking.
“Congratulations, String,” he cried as soon as he had shaken the water out of his eyes. “Glad you got a place; I thought you would.”
“You can’t keep that fellow down,” laughed Fred. “There’s no use in trying. He’s fresh and he knows it, but no matter what you do to him he keeps it up just the same.”
“He’s not fresh,” laughed Mr. Maxwell. “He’s just full of spirits.”
“I don’t know what we’d do without him anyway,” said Grant feelingly. “There are not many dull moments when Pop is around.”
“I would suggest,” said Mr. Maxwell, “that you boys go and put your clothes on. The sun is beginning to go down and it’ll be cold soon.”
“I’m cold now,” exclaimed John. “I’m going to get my clothes all right.”
He hurried off towards the tent closely followed by the seven other boys. A brisk rub down with heavy towels soon got their blood to circulating once more and no one felt any ill effects from all their exercises and exertion of the day.
“Now I shall present the prizes,” said Mr. Maxwell when the boys were assembled in front of the tent. “The blue team wins the meet by the margin of eight points to six. I congratulate them and take great pleasure in presenting to them the big American flag. They all know how I feel about it and I expect them to treat it as it should be treated.”