"Then we'll decide that when the time comes," answered Harry. "Maybe a mile, maybe a quarter; we'll see how the ice is, and the wind and all that. And you'd better arrange it for a week from to-day, and I'll just practice up all I can. That's all settled then, isn't it?" "It certainly sounds so," laughed Roy. "And," he added as the clock in School Hall tower rang eleven, "I wish you'd settle my Latin exam as easily!" CHAPTER XVI "JUST FOR THE SCHOOL!" There was a stiff, biting wind blowing straight down the river, nipping the fingers and toes of the crowd about the landing and whirling away the smoke from the chimney of the boat-house. Overhead the winter sky was leaden and sullen clouds were driving southward. Underfoot the ice rang hard as steel, and, save for a space in mid-river, was as smooth as a mirror. It was well on toward four o'clock and already the shadows along the banks hinted of coming night. Hammond and Ferry Hill were hobnobbing about the boat-house stove or out on the ice in front of the landing. The terms of the race had been arranged and the big, yellow-haired Schonberg was idly cutting figures in and out of the group to keep himself warm. The race was to be a half-mile long, starting here at the Ferry Hill landing, crossing straight as a strip of weak ice would permit to a point on the Hammond side of the river and returning again to the landing, finishing at a mark indicated by an empty nail keg and a broken soap box set some twenty yards from shore. All that remained of the preliminaries was for Ferry Hill to produce her entry. Mr. Cobb, who was to act as starter, timer, judge and everything else of an official sort, looked at his watch and announced that it was time to start. Schonberg stopped his capers, removed his sweater and skated to the mark, looking about with pardonable curiosity for a sight of his adversary. Horace and Harry emerged from the throng and joined him. "This is Mr. Schonberg, Harry," said Horace. "Schonberg, my cousin, Miss Emery." Harry bowed gravely in her best society manner and Schonberg made a futile grab at his knit cap. "Happy to meet you," he muttered. Then, possibly for want of something better to say, he turned to Horace and asked: "When are you chaps going to be ready?" "We're ready now," answered Horace soberly. Schonberg looked about him. The crowd had surrounded the mark by this time and Mr. Cobb had his watch in hand. "Where's your man, Burlen?" asked Custis, Hammond's senior class president. "Right here," answered Horace, indicating Harry. "Miss Emery is our man." Hammond howled with laughter. Harry's cheeks reddened and her eyes flashed. "You're joking, aren't you?" asked Custis. "Not at all," replied Horace impatiently. "But, I say, Burlen, that's poppycock, you know! We didn't challenge a girl's school!"