“Yes, it will,” Hi assured him.

“I don’t see how it can be, when it’s only between two out of the three Grammar Schools in the town,” Dick argued.

“The challenge is issued only to Central Grammar,” wound up Hi, turning to leave.  “And if you haven’t accepted before Monday evening, we of the North Grammar will hold that you have backed out and don’t dare meet us.  Oh, by the way, Prescott, you’d better look out for Ripley and Dodge.  They mean to get square with you for what happened last night.”

“Get square with me for it?” laughed Prescott, unafraid.  “All right, but that’s rather rich!  Why, I had nothing to do with it.”

“They blame you a good deal for it,” added Hi, “and they declare that they’re going to get even with you.”

“All right; let them try it,” Dick nodded.

“What do you think of this swimming challenge?” asked Dave quickly.

“Why, I think,” Dick replied, “that it will bear looking into closely.  There may be some trick about it, and we must look out that we are not roped into some funny game.  We’ll see the fellows at school on Monday.”

“Hi Martin is probably the best swimmer among the Grammar School boys of Gridley,” Tom suggested.

“I think that he most likely is,” Dick agreed.  “If he proposes to stand for North Grammar, and wants us to put up one candidate against him, then Hi would probably take the race.  If we take the challenge, either we ought to insist on a team race, or else on a number of separate events by different fellows, each event to count for so many points on the score.  In any match of singles Hi Martin might win.  If we go into this at all, we must look out that it isn’t fixed so that Hi Martin, alone, can carry off the championship for his school.”

“The very fact that Hi proposed it makes me suspicious that he has some trick in reserve,” Tom urged.

“I like the general idea,” spoke up Greg.  “Any swimming contest that is a real match between the schools, instead of between individuals, will be good sport and arouse a lot of school interest.  There are a lot of fairly good swimmers in our school, too.”

“We’ll talk it over with the fellows, and with Old Dut also,” Dick went on.  “Of course we have no right to act for the school unless the other fellows are willing.”

When Dick left his chums at noon it was with an agreement to meet on Main Street again at half past one.

At fifteen minutes past one the telephone bell rang in the little bookstore.

“Have you a copy of Moore’s Ballads?” asked a masculine voice.

“Yes,” replied Mr. Prescott; “in different styles of bindings and at different prices.”

The bookseller then went on to describe the bindings and named the prices.  The customer at the other end of the wire seemed to prefer an expensive volume, which came at four dollars.

“Can you deliver the book immediately, with a bill, to Mrs. Carhart, at the Gideon Wells place?” continued the voice at the other end.