Monday morning came and found the four young campers eagerly awaiting the arrival of their challengers. There was great speculation as to what they would look like and whether or not any set of games between the two camps would provide an equal contest.

“I believe we can beat them,” exclaimed George confidently.

“Don’t be so sure,” advised Grant. “You’d better wait until you see your opponents before you begin to make any predictions.”

“That’s right,” said Fred. “You’d better not talk too much about it either, Pop. You’ll need all your wind for the swimming and canoe races.”

George gave the speaker a scornful glance but said nothing. The four friends finished their breakfast and lolled about the camp waiting for their rivals to appear.

“There they come now,” exclaimed John after the lapse of about an hour.

“Where?” demanded George. “I don’t see them.”

“That tree is in your way, I guess,” said John. “You’ll see them in a minute or two.”

“There they are!” exclaimed George suddenly. “Their boat looks just like the Balsam, doesn’t it?”

“I think it is the same,” said John. “It seems to me my father told me that there were two catboats on the lake made by the same man and made exactly alike.”

“That’ll be fine,” said Fred eagerly. “No one can claim any advantage because of the boat then, and the best sailors will win.”

“Let’s hope we’re the ones,” laughed Grant. “Come on, who’s coming down to the wharf to meet our guests?”

“We all are, I guess,” exclaimed John, and a moment later the four boys were standing on the tiny dock waiting for the approaching catboat to come into their little harbor.

“They’re good sailors all right,” whispered Fred as he watched the boys in the boat maneuver their craft. “We’ll have to be awfully good to beat them.”

“All the more credit if we do,” said Grant.

“Ahoy, there!” he shouted a moment later. “You’d better anchor a little way out from the dock here. We’ll come out in the canoes after you.”

“All right,” came the reply. “Did you get our challenge?”

“We certainly did,” said Grant.

“Good. I hope you’ll accept it.”

“Of course we will.”

The boat swung around and one of the crew threw the anchor overboard. The sail was quickly lowered and everything was done in a quiet business-like way that instilled a great amount of respect into the hearts of the boys who, from the dock, were watching the proceedings.

A moment later Grant and John each took a canoe and set out from the shore. They came alongside the catboat, which was named the Spruce, and quickly transferred the crew to the canoes, and thence to the shore. One of the boys, Thomas Adams by name, seemed to be the spokesman for the party and he proceeded with Grant’s help to introduce everybody all around.

Much laughter and embarrassment followed but before long all of the boys were quite at their ease. They left the dock and proceeded to the tent and all sat down on the ground in front of it. It seemed that the camp at the end of the lake was very much like the one on the island. It was occupied by four boys of just about the same age as the others and practically of the same size.

“We thought it would be fun,” said Thomas Adams speaking for his three friends as well as himself, “to challenge you fellows to a set of water sports. We heard that there were to be four of you on this island this summer and we saw you the other day just when you were leaving our camp; right after that storm I mean. We were sorry to miss you.”

“We were sorry, too,” said Grant.

“You were away when we came to see you too,” said Thomas.

“Yes,” said George, “we were off trout fishing for a few days.”

“Have any luck?” asked Hugh McNeale one of the other visitors.

“Pretty good,” said George. “We had a lot of fun too.”

“Who caught the biggest fish?”

“Ask Fred here,” grinned George. “He knows all about that.”

Being urged to do so Fred proceeded to relate the story of how George had carried off the prize. He did not spare himself in the telling either and left out no detail of how disappointed he had been to find that George had beaten him out. When he told how George had hooked his trout the story was greeted with gales of laughter and congratulations were showered upon the fortunate fisherman.

“A fellow with schemes like that would be hard to beat in any sort of a game,” laughed Hugh.

“What sort of games are we going to have?” asked John.

“We thought a sailing race would be fun,” said Hugh.

“Yes, and so would swimming and canoe races,” exclaimed Grant. “Do you think three events will be enough?”

“How about a tilting contest?” said Thomas.

“What’s a tilting contest?” asked Fred curiously.

“Didn’t you ever hear of that?”

“Never that I know of.”

“Why, it’s like this,” explained Thomas. “Two fellows get into a canoe; the one in the stern paddles and steers and the fellow in the bow has a great long pole with one end of it all wrapped up with rags or something like that. Another canoe fixed up the same way opposes them and the two attack each other. The fellows with the poles jab at each other and try to upset the other canoe or knock the bow man overboard; if he falls overboard or the canoe upsets of course they lose the match.”

“That sounds fine,” exclaimed George. “I say we include a tilting match by all means.”

“Two from our camp will take on two from yours,” suggested Thomas.

“All right,” agreed Grant. “We’ll enter our star team.”

“Entries will close one second before the match starts,” laughed Franklin Dunbar, a fat, round-faced boy, who had spoken but little thus far.

“And probably our team will be upset and in the water one second after the match starts,” laughed George.

“It’ll be fun anyway,” said Thomas. “When shall we have the games?”

“We were wondering about that too,” said Grant. “I guess almost any time will suit us though.”

“We’ll need some practice,” remarked Fred. “Don’t forget that.”

“Not much,” said Grant. “I say not to practice too much. We don’t want to make professional games out of them, you know.”

“That’s all right, too,” objected Fred. “At the same time we want to make them worth while and the better we all are the more fun they will be too. Don’t you think so?” and he appealed to the four young visitors for their opinion.

“I agree with you,” said Thomas readily. “Our camp wants to beat yours too, and if you fellows don’t take it seriously why there won’t be much honor in it for us if we do win.”

“There’d be plenty of disgrace if we lost under those conditions though,” laughed Franklin Dunbar.

“We don’t know anything about tilting either, Grant,” said George. “We will need a lot of practice for that event.”

“All right,” agreed Grant. “I guess we do need practice. As far as I’m concerned, anything you fellows say suits me. How about a judge though? Suppose we should have a close finish in one of the races, who would we have to decide it for us?”

“My uncle is coming to spend a week with us in camp,” said Hugh McNeale. “He might act as judge if we wanted him.”

“That would be fine,” exclaimed Grant. “When is he coming?”

“Not till week after next.”

“That’s all right,” said Fred. “That would be just about right.”

“Suppose we set two weeks from Wednesday then,” suggested Thomas. “That ought to give us plenty of time to get in shape.”

“All right,” agreed Grant. “We ought to have some sort of name for our teams too. Have you any name for your camp?”

“No, we haven’t.”

“Neither have we. Suppose you call yourselves the red team and we’ll be the blue.”

“Fine,” exclaimed Hugh. “I’ll write a letter to Uncle Jack and tell him what he has ahead of him. I’ll tell him that he really is to be the umpire and that he’ll get the same treatment an umpire does if he doesn’t do his job well.”

The remaining details were speedily arranged and then the four boys of the red team sailed back to their camp, leaving the boys on the island full of excitement and pleasure at the thought of the games ahead of them.