The day set for the meet came at last. The first event, the tilting contest, was scheduled for eleven o’clock and a half an hour before that time the red team was on hand. The weather was ideal, bright and sunny and warm, with not too much breeze. This was as the boys desired, for they had hoped that the wind might not spring up until afternoon. At least that is the way they would have arranged matters if they had any power to do so. Strange to say it seemed as if the weather was to turn out just as they had hoped.

Hugh McNeale brought his Uncle Jack along and all the boys were captivated by him at once. He was a big, jolly man, full of fun, and with a laugh that made you feel as if you wanted to join in it every time you heard it. He was enthusiastic over the idea of being the judge and promised to do his very best.

“I also have a trophy for the winning team,” he exclaimed. “It’s something that you boys ought to have had in your camps anyway, but I haven’t seen one in either and so I’m going to give it as a prize.”

“What’s that?” inquired Hugh curiously.

“See for yourself,” exclaimed Mr. Maxwell, for that was the name of Hugh’s uncle. He took a package from underneath his coat and unwrapping it, spread before the admiring gaze of the eight boys a silk American flag about three feet in length.

“Say!” said George enthusiastically. “That’s worth working for, isn’t it?”

“It certainly is,” agreed the seven other boys, almost with one voice.

“That’s the first prize,” said Mr. Maxwell, evidently greatly pleased with the result the sight of the flag had produced. “Here’s the second,” and from his pocket he drew another flag of the same quality as the first but only half the size.

“I’m ashamed of you boys,” he continued. “Both of these camps should have had a great big American flag flying right out in front of the tent. Let people see that you’re patriotic and be proud of it.”

“We are proud of it,” objected Grant.

“Of course you are,” said Mr. Maxwell readily. “I want you to show it off though. Have a flag, and every time you look at it don’t think only of how beautiful it is. Remember what it stands for and how much you owe to it. Think of the country that stands back of that flag and of the millions of others who along with you have it for their national emblem. You’re all glad you’re Americans and you’re proud of the fact and I want you never to be afraid to admit it. Be loyal to the flag, boys, and by your actions prove that you’re worthy of the protection it affords you. And don’t forget either that it’s your duty as real American citizens to do your part. That’s what so many forget so easily. You can’t expect to receive benefits all the time and not give anything in return, you know.”

“What can we do?” asked George, who along with all the others was deeply impressed by Mr. Maxwell’s words.

“Just this: be good citizens. A good citizen is a man who not only obeys the laws of his country, but who is always working to make his country better. He puts his country’s interests ahead of his own and that’s a hard thing to do sometimes. A good citizen stands by the mayor of his town, and the governor of his state, and the president of his country. Instead of sitting home and criticising them he gets out and works to help them in every way he can and he is loyal to them. Those men are behind this flag and if you are loyal to the flag, prove it by being loyal to the men behind it. Every man must do his part.”

“I guess we’re careless at times and don’t think,” said Grant soberly.

“That’s true,” agreed Mr. Maxwell. “That’s no excuse for us though.”

“But I didn’t come here to make a speech,” he continued laughingly. “I believe what I’ve just said with all my heart though. At present, however, I know there is a tilting contest to be held and we’d better start it at once. I’m anxious to see who gets the first two points towards winning the big flag.”

Without further delay the four boys who were to compete in this event set about preparing themselves for it. Bathing suits were donned so that an upset would not cause any worry and the two canoes were soon ready for the fray.

Grant and George represented the blue team and Thomas Adams and Franklin Dunbar, the red. Grant was bow man, with George to handle the canoe; Thomas was bow man, and Franklin paddled in the opposing boat.

The contest was staged in the little harbor and the judge and spectators took their positions on the tiny wharf. The canoes now faced each other some fifty feet apart, waiting for the signal.

“Not too fast now, Pop,” warned Grant. “I don’t want to fall out of the canoe before we even reach the other one, you know.”

“I know,” replied George. “I’ll be careful.”

“I’m going to stay down on one knee like this, too.”

“That’s a good scheme. Lock your feet around that thwart if you can. We want to beat those fellows.”

“All ready?” came the call from shore.

“All ready,” answered Grant, and Thomas did the same.

“Go,” shouted Mr. Maxwell, and the match was on.

Franklin and George did not try to make speed however. In fact they were both very cautious and as a consequence, the two canoes approached each other slowly. Both pilots seemed willing to let the other man lead off in the attack.

“Careful, Pop,” said Grant, without relaxing his gaze from his opponent’s face for one instant.

“All right. I’m watching them.”

Grant, crouched on one knee, was holding the pole as a mediÆval knight would have held his lance in a jousting tournament. Thomas however, stood up in his canoe, gaining a little freedom of action perhaps, but at the same time increasing his chances of going overboard.

The canoes were only a few feet apart now and the bow men braced themselves for the onslaught.

“Let ’em have it now, Grant!” shouted John from the shore. Fred joined him in his exhortations, while Hugh and Herbert Halsey were just as noisy in their zeal to cheer their team on, and for the size of the audience the amount of sound produced was marvelous. Mr. Maxwell was the only one who was silent.

Closer came the two canoes. Now they were within range and Thomas lunged forward savagely at Grant. He ducked the blow and aiming one in return caught his opponent full in the stomach. Thomas uttered a loud grunt and fell backwards. As luck would have it however, he fell in the canoe. The light craft rocked dangerously and narrowly missed upsetting. As it was, some water was shipped and had it not been for the skill of the two occupants it surely would have overturned.

“Quick, Grant!” urged George. “Hit him again before he can get up.”

“Bring me closer to them.”

George thrust his paddle into the water and the canoe shot forward. Franklin, however, with ready presence of mind had swung his canoe around the minute it righted itself and Grant’s lunge at Thomas missed. Before George could bring his boat within range again, their opponents had recovered their balance and were prepared for the second attack.

Once more the canoes approached each other. This time Thomas followed Grant’s example and crouched on one knee. He had evidently learned a lesson and had determined to be more wary.

“Get him, Grant! Get him!” shouted John.

“Careful, George; not too fast,” warned Grant.

He held his pole back waiting an opportunity to strike. This time he was determined that any blow he delivered would end the match; he had been out-lucked before and did not want it to happen again.

Thomas made a feint at him. Grant was anxious and struck back so eagerly that he almost fell out of the canoe.

“That’s the way, Tom,” called Hugh. “You’ll fix him this time.”

Again Thomas feinted and again Grant lunged fiercely at his opponent. Thomas then followed up his bluff with a quick stab that luckily only struck Grant a glancing blow on the shoulder. Had it hit him squarely, the match most certainly would have been ended then and there; as it was only George’s quick action saved them from going over.

“Don’t let him fool you, Grant,” he warned. “Wait for him.”

Again they advanced and as they once more neared each other Thomas repeated his former tactics. He made a feint to lunge at Grant, and as before, Grant was unable to resist the temptation to strike back quickly. This he did and Franklin in the stern of the opposing canoe, anticipating this move, backed water and the blow missed Thomas’ head by inches.

The poles the boys were using were long and heavy. As a result, they were somewhat clumsy and hard to handle. As Grant lunged forward at Thomas, he leaned over the side of the canoe and the weight of his pole prevented him from regaining his balance at once.

Thomas and Franklin had evidently mapped out their plan of campaign beforehand and apparently Grant had acted exactly as they wished him to. Thomas held his pole with a shortened grip and before Grant could recover his equilibrium, he jabbed at him with all his might. The great wad on the end of the pole caught Grant squarely on the chest; he dropped his pole and waved his arms violently about his head in an effort to save himself.

All his efforts were of no use, however. Undoubtedly he would have gone overboard anyway, but just to make sure, Thomas gave him a gentle push with the business end of the pole and over he went. As he disappeared over the side he gave the canoe a shove with his feet and a moment later George joined him in the water.