“Don’t ask me. I never met him until the other day. But he _can_ skate; we can see that; the question is how well?” “I hope he’ll win, if only to shut that bragging mucker up. Hello, look there!” Carl looked and uttered a groan of dismay. Long Isle, lying almost abreast of the boat landing and about two thirds way across the river, is in reality composed of not one, but two islands, the second, scarcely twenty yards long, being separated from the main expanse at its lower end by a scant two yards of ice-covered channel. This fact had been overlooked, and now the watchers saw, at first with surprise and then with annoyance, that the skaters had parted company. Billings had headed for the channel, while Trevor, holding to a close interpretation of the agreement, was making for the end of the smaller island. The next moment Billings was out of sight; another instant and Trevor too had disappeared. “If Nesbitt can overcome that handicap he’s a good one,” muttered Dick. “That’s so,” Carl assented. “It means a good fifty yards lost, I guess.” Some of the boys had hurried across the ice to the island, and from a point of vantage near its northern end were to be seen waving their arms wildly. But the throng at the finish could gather no hint from their gestures as to the progress of the racers. “Evidently a misunderstanding there,” said French, the St. Eustace captain, approaching Grove. “Which is Long Isle?” “Both of ’em,” grunted Grove. “Well, but----” “Oh, it’s all right, I guess; Billings wasn’t supposed to know; it was my fault; I forgot about that plaguy little bunch of land beyond there. The fellow that crosses first wins,” he added decisively. “What do you say, Hope?” “That’s right; Billings couldn’t know that he was supposed to go around both islands.” “Very well,” answered French, “but I’m sorry there was any misunderstanding. Your man may think that he might have won if it hadn’t been for the mistake.” “He may win anyhow,” said Dick dryly. “The race isn’t over yet.” French looked to see if Dick was joking, but finding no signs of levity, smiled politely and deprecatingly, and moved off. The next moment the boys on the island left their places and came scrambling back across the ice, and then a skater came into view around the up-river end of the island and headed for the finish. “It’s Billings,” said Dick in disappointed tones. But ere the words were out of his mouth a second form sped into sight, and a cheer went up from the watchers. Trevor was apparently but a half dozen yards behind, and, although as the racers were coming directly toward the group it was impossible to be certain on that point, seemed to be gaining at every stride. Carl slapped Dick boisterously on the shoulder and then hugged him ecstatically. “Can ’Is ’Ighness skate, Dick? _Can he skate?_” “Can he!” howled Dick. “Look, he’s even with him; he’s--by Jupiter, Carl, he’s ahead of him!”