The days intervening until the time came for the games were busy ones for the boys in the island camp. The Balsam was thoroughly overhauled, and everything removed from her that might tend in any way to retard her speed. Frequent cruises were made and every boy was assigned to some special duty on the boat so that when the race was held there would be no confusion. None of the young campers had any desire to lose the race through inefficiency.

Long swims were indulged in to improve their wind and strengthen their muscles. Canoe races were held and different combinations tried to enable them to select the strongest team. A course a half-mile long was marked out and time-trials held in an effort to decide upon the fastest pair. All four boys were to be in the race but it had been decided that the best policy was to put the best two paddlers in the same canoe. By following this plan it was thought that their chances for winning would be greatly improved. First place was to count two and second one in the sailing and canoe races and in the tilting match. In the swimming race three places were to count, the points to be scored being three for first, two for second and one for third. The team scoring the greatest number of points was to be declared the winner.

Practice for the tilting match occupied very much of the boys’ time. Two long poles had been cut and one end of each was wound with old rags and blankets, thus forming a large soft knob.

“If we’d only saved those clothes that we had on when the skunks got after us,” remarked George, “we could have won a tilting contest from anybody.”

“What do you mean by that!” inquired Grant curiously.

“Simply this. Instead of using rags to wind the poles with we could have used those clothes.”

“What advantage would that have been?”

“Don’t you see?” demanded George. “All we’d have to do would be to point the pole at our opponent. We wouldn’t have to touch him at all; as soon as he got a whiff of that awful odor he’d simply faint and fall overboard and we’d be the winners.”

“A great idea, Pop,” laughed John. “Why didn’t you think of it at the time?”

“In the first place I didn’t know anything about this tilting match at the time; in the second place, even if I had, I don’t believe I’d have kept them. Whew, they were awful!” and George shuddered at the recollection.

“They certainly were,” agreed Fred. “Don’t talk to me about it; my clothes were all in the same condition as yours.”

The same system that was adopted for selecting a team for the canoe race was used for the tilting match. Every possible combination of the four young campers was tried in an effort to find the strongest competitors. Grant and John had been selected for the canoe race, and Grant and George were decided upon for the tilting contest.

It had been taken for granted that Grant would be on both teams; he outshone his companions in every form of game and sport just as he did in his knowledge of books. He and George were heavier than the other two boys and consequently made a more powerful team for the tilting match. Weight would be an asset in that sport, for it is much easier to knock down a light man than it is a heavy one; especially when a tricky and shaky canoe is under your feet.

“I seem to be out of it,” remarked Fred ruefully when the final selections had been made.

“Why are you?” demanded Grant. “You’re going to be in the canoe race just as much as John and I?”

“I know it, but I’m not on the first team.”

“That’s all right, you and Pop might beat us out after all.”

“Huh,” exclaimed Fred. “Pop doesn’t do any work; he just sits there and expects me to do it all.”

“You know that’s not so, Fred,” protested George warmly. “No one in the world works harder than I do.”

“Well, if that’s so,” returned Fred, “all I can say is that there are an awful lot of loafers in the world.”

“All four of us will be in every event except the tilting match,” said John. “You and I are both out of that, Fred.”

“You can save your strength while that’s going on for the swimming race,” said Grant. “We’ll have to depend on you two to win first and second in that.”

“How long is it going to be?” asked George.

“A hundred and seventy-five yards. Tom Adams was over here yesterday while you were away and we decided on that distance.”

“It seems to me like a queer distance though,” said George. “How did you ever happen to hit on that?”

“Why, we wanted to make it a hundred yards and they wanted a two-twenty. We finally compromised on a hundred and seventy-five yards.”

“That’s fair enough,” said George. “How are we going to measure off these different distances?”

“Guess at them, I suppose,” laughed John. “It won’t make any difference whether they’re exact or not, I guess.”

“No, I imagine we’re not going to break any time records so we needn’t bother about such details,” agreed George.

“We haven’t had any practice so far to-day,” remarked Fred. “What’s the matter; are we afraid of getting over-trained?”

“That can be done easily enough, all right,” said Grant. “Don’t you remember what the track coach we had at school last year said?”

“He said I’d never make a runner if that’s what you mean,” laughed George.

“No, not that. What he said about training.”

“What was it?” asked Fred. “I don’t remember.”

“Why, he said it was much better to be under-trained than over-trained. Another thing, when a fellow was training for a certain event he’d never let him run the full distance in practice.”

“Is that so?” exclaimed George. “That doesn’t sound logical to me though.”

“All right,” said Grant, “but you know which school won all the meets held anywhere around home, don’t you?”

“We did,” said George.

“That’s just it,” exclaimed Grant, “and yet you say that trainer was no good.”

“I didn’t mean to say that. All I said was that it didn’t seem reasonable to me not to let a fellow run the full distance.”

“Well, Mr. Smythe used to say that the great temptation for most fellows was to do too much work. They’d go out and run all the afternoon and hang around until they were tired out and then wonder why they felt heavy in the legs and had no life in them.”

“Sailing can’t hurt us anyway,” said John.

“That’s right,” agreed Grant, “and I’m in favor of doing this: stop training for the events to-morrow. That’ll leave us two days to rest up before the games are held and we can devote those two days to learning how little we know about sailing.”

“I know that already,” laughed George. “I’m afraid we’re going to get a good beating in that race.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Fred objected. “They might run on a rock or something.”

“That’s our best chance all right,” said George. “I have an idea that those fellows are all awfully good sailors.”

“I hope we have some wind,” said Grant hopefully. “We’ll never finish the race unless we have a pretty stiff breeze. Personally I think the course is too long.”

“Twice around the lake,” said John. “That’s not so far.”

“It’s pretty far,” insisted Grant. “Wait until you see the buoys out and then you’ll realize it.”

“Who’s going to put them out?”

“The red team,” laughed Grant.

“They’re doing most of the work, aren’t they?” inquired Fred.

“Well, they wanted to; naturally I didn’t object.”

“They’re going to get dinner over here, you know,” said George. “That’ll give us something to do.”

“Just think of it,” exclaimed John. “Won’t we be hungry that day? The swimming and canoe races and the tilting contests all in the morning and then food. You’ll have to cook a lot, Grant.”

“I realize that,” said Grant grimly. “I guess we can feed them though.”

“Suppose we’re all even at the end of the morning,” exclaimed George. “That would certainly make the sailing race exciting, wouldn’t it?”

“It sure would,” Fred agreed. “We’ll have plenty of time to sail it too, Grant. All afternoon ought to be long enough.”

“That’s right,” said Grant. “Yes, I hope we can get around twice in one afternoon.”

“This canoe race is what’s bothering me,” exclaimed George. “That’ll take it out of us all right. It’s hard work paddling and as long as Fred and I aren’t the first team I wonder if it wouldn’t be better if we didn’t go in it at all. If we were fresh for the swimming race that might increase our chances.”

“I know,” said Grant, “but it seems to me that every fellow ought to be in every event.”

“But look here,” George objected. “You and String are a much better pair than Fred and I. You simply walk away from us every time; we can’t possibly beat you so what’s the use?”

“You might get second, and that one point might win for us.”

“I have an idea,” exclaimed John suddenly. “Why not make it a relay race? We can race around the island and if we do that everybody can be in it and it seems to me it would be a lot more fun that way.”

“That’s fine,” exclaimed George warmly. “Fred and I can paddle the first lap and you and Grant the second. Will those other fellows agree to it though?”

“I don’t see why they shouldn’t,” said Grant. “It’s just as fair as the other way; fairer if anything because it gives every one a chance.”

“We’ll have to ask them about it though,” said John. “Why can’t we sail down there now and see them?”

“We can,” said George springing to his feet. “Let’s do it, too.”

A few moments later the Balsam was under way, headed for the end of the lake and the camp of the enemy, the red team.