"I think it will be for the judges to say anyway," said George as
he wrung the water out of his dripping sweater.
"I fancy they will be the ones who will pick the winner," laughed
Grant. "I hope they'll not call it a draw and that we shall have
to try it all over again."
"I shan't mind very much if they do," said John.
"There's a call from the judges!" interrupted Fred, who had
seldom looked away from the judges' boat, which now they were
again approaching.
Suddenly a great hush fell over the assembly. Every one anxiously
looked toward the boat of the judges, striving to hear the
announcement which was about to be made through the megaphone.
"Hold me!" said Fred. "If the Varmint II wins I think I shall
need somebody to brace me up."
At that moment, however, the voice of the judge was heard and
when he announced that by a margin of only six inches the Black
Growler had won the cup, a shout went up from the crew of the
little racing motor-boat that was heard above the din that
followed the award.
"That's worth while, Peewee!" declared George as he pounded his
diminutive friend upon his back.
"That's what it is!" joined in the other boys.
Meanwhile the victorious motor-boat had drawn alongside the
Caledonia and as Fred looked up to the enthusiastic people on the
deck the only voice to which he was listening was that of his
grandfather.
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