"Fine chance of that!"

"They may try to pull another job. What was the date on that coded message?"

"The 24th. I remember because it's the day of our Pack swimming meet."

"That date may have significance," Brad speculated. "But it's not for us to decide. Let's get out of here now and give Mr. Hatfield all the facts.

Then he can take the responsibility."

Dan knew that the older boy's advice was sound and should be followed.

But it was with a sinking heart that he followed Brad through the damp tunnel to the river.

He was willing to bet that neither the Cub leader nor police would favor another raid on the island. His attempt to straighten out matters had failed! Time had run out.

Through his bungling, the Cubs would lose their island camp. And there wasn't a thing he could do.

CHAPTER 14 Victory for Den 2

At the "Y" swimming pool, Dan Carter and the Cubs lounged against the tiled wall, awaiting the signal for start of the long-awaited Pack meet.

The gallery was jammed with spectators, for parents and friends of both teams had turned out in large numbers to witness this decisive contest of the season. A large silver cup, to be awarded the winning Den, stood on a table in plain view of the swimmers.

"Gosh, I sure hope we can win that beautiful baby," Midge said, gazing longingly at the trophy. "Dan, we're depending on you to do your stuff!"

"I'll sure try," Dan replied, shivering in his wet suit. "But you know Ross! He's jet propelled. Furthermore, he hasn't forgotten how we won that last meet."

As the boys talked, Ross himself sauntered past. He paused to hitch up his trunks and fix Dan with an amused eye.

"It's going to be too bad for you, little shrimp," he jeered. "This time, you won't win on a fluke! In fact, you won't win. Period."

"Don't be too sure," Midge cut in. "Take a look at the events that have been posted."

"What's different about 'em?" Ross demanded suspiciously.

"The coaches got together and subst.i.tuted a 75-yard free style for the 50-yard. They figure it's a better test of swimming form. In the shorter distance, a good turn at the wall gives a fellow a big advantage."

"No one told me about changing the distance," Ross muttered. "I'm going to find out about this!"

The Cubs saw him arguing vigorously with his own coach and Mr. Hatfield.

The two men listened to his complaint but did not change the list of scheduled events.

"It's this way, Ross," Mr. Hatfield explained. "The Cubs steadily have increased their endurance as well as their speed. At the beginning of the season, a 50-yard swim was a hard race for everyone concerned. Now it's a breeze. The 75-yard freestyle is a far better test of one's real ability."

"Sure, I guess so," Ross admitted, but he looked worried. Though the Den 1 coach had urged him many times to practice the longer length, he nearly always had stopped short at the end of two turns.

While waiting for the starting signal, Dan at the other end of the pool allowed his gaze to wander over the packed audience. In the back row near the door he caught a glimpse of a short little man whose sharp-featured face gave him a start.

"Midge, look over there!" he muttered, nudging his companion.

"Where?"

"He's gone now," Dan returned. "Slipped out through the door. For just a minute I thought-"

A shrill blast from Mr. Hatfield's whistle drove the matter from his mind entirely. Scrambling to his feet, he lined up for the first event of the meet.

In rapid order the events were run through, the back stroke, fancy diving, the 100-yard relay race, and a breast stroke event. With only one event remaining-the 75-yard freestyle, the score stood 20 to 16 in favor of Den 2.

To win the meet the Cubs of Den 2 knew that Dan must defeat Ross for first place. But in the freestyle relay event, the Den 1 swimmer had put on a spectacular burst of speed to capture the event. The prospects looked discouraging.

"Just swim your own race, Dan," Mr. Holloway advised as the boy went to the starting line.

The swimmers crouched above their lanes awaiting the signal. Sensing that the race would be a close one, the audience rose to its feet.

Mr. Hatfield's revolver cracked and the swimmers were off.

Almost together Ross and Dan struck the water in flat, fast racing dives.

From the start, the Den 1 swimmer took the lead.

Dan heard the groans of dismay from his teammates and instinctively increased the tempo of his thrashing legs. Then he told himself he could not hold the pace. Deliberately, he dropped back to his former rhythm.

The race would be a gruelling one at the end. He must save a little reserve for that final spurt!

At the turn, Ross was nearly two body lengths ahead of Dan, his closest compet.i.tor. Midge and a youth who swam for Den 1 were almost neck-and-neck another three feet behind.

After the second length, Ross slowed down a bit. Dan's arms and legs now were moving with the easy precision of well-oiled machinery. Going into the final turn, the boy suddenly realized that for the first time in the race, he was a foot ahead!

The knowledge shocked him into losing the smooth rhythm of his stroke.

Ross, desperate to regain the lead, spurted ahead once more.

"Come on, Dan!" his teammates pleaded. "Come on!"

Across the pool, the Cubs of Den 1 were urging Ross to give his all. Both boys put on a final thrust of speed.

Dan's arms ached with fatigue but his breath was good. _Fight, fight, fight!_ The words pounded through his brain and conveyed themselves to his thrashing legs. His driving arms churned the water to foam as he put forth a supreme effort.

The finish line was just ahead. As Dan surged for it with a feel of power and strength, Ross suddenly seemed to cave in. His stroke lost all rhythm, arm and leg movements became jerky.

Dan moved steadily ahead of him, touching the wall a full length ahead.

The audience burst into loud applause. Midge who came in third, after Ross, also was given a big hand.

"Well, you did it, boy!" Brad declared, clapping Dan on the back. "Look at that scoreboard!"

Mr. Hatfield was writing up the chalk figures-26 to 19 in favor of Den 2.

"We've won the silver cup!" Chips Davis added, joining in the congratulations. "And not on any fluke either!"