The shore of the lake was thronged with spectators, and the band was playing a lively air near the dance hall, the music floating over the water on the gentle breeze. In the lineup Merriwell and his friends had formed together. They were stripped to trousers, shirts and caps. Frank was laughing and joking, but Hodge and Diamond looked grim and determined. The man from Greenville was a long-haired, weather-tanned chap, with a hard, knotty arm and broad shoulders. Certainly he did look like a formidable antagonist. Some of the contestants were inclined to guy Merry and his friends. They cautioned them not to capsize, asked them if they could swim, told them they might do better to get out and push their canoes, and tried to have sport with them generally. Diamond did not relish this sort of chaffing, and the hot flush on his cheeks showed he was irritated. Hodge held his anger down, while Frank seemed to regard it as part of the fun. “One of us must win this race!” grated the Virginian, sullenly. “They take us for a lot of flubs. I paddled a canoe almost as soon as I learned to walk.” “Keep cool,” cautioned Merry. “It won’t do any good to get angry, and it may cause you to lose the race.” “How can a fellow keep cool, when these chumps are blowing their wind at him! I feel like punching a few of them!” “Never mind. If you win, it will make them feel cheap enough.” “Welch is in the line,” said Hodge, in a low tone. “I see him.” “Wonder if he is any good?” “Somebody said he’d be the one to give the Greenville chap a hard pull.” “Then look out for him, Merriwell.” “How?” “You are bound to be in the van at the finish. He may try some kind of a trick.” “Oh! I guess not. He won’t have a chance.” “Fellows like him make chances.” “You are expecting too much from him. I think he’ll keep his place. He recovered pretty quick from his ducking this morning.” “Get ready!” exclaimed Diamond, poising his paddle; “the starter is going to give the signal.” There was some further delay about getting all the canoes in line, and then the starter stood up in his boat and lifted his pistol in the air. “Ready!” he cried. The paddles were poised. Crack! When the pistol spoke, they were off in a bunch. Almost immediately, however, Jack Diamond began to forge ahead, fairly sending his canoe flying over the surface of the lake. He handled his paddle with strength and skill, and he proved a surprise at the very start. There was a cheer from shore and the fluttering of handkerchiefs and waving of hats. The band played its liveliest air. Merriwell paddled steadily and easily from the start, keeping well up with the body of the contestants, but not making any great effort to gain thus early in the race. Hodge worked steadily, but was not particularly graceful in his movements. He was a stout, sturdy fellow, but no one had picked him out as a possible winner.