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THE EIGHT-OARED VICTORS

sisted chiefly in giving the girls a good time. The wheezy little launch was worked to the limit.

Then came the approach of the college season. Several cottages on the island were closed. The girls said farewell to Madge, for they must spend some time with their own folks, and one day Tom remarked:

"Say, fellows, let's break camp. It's no fun here without the girls."

"That's right," agreed Sid, and so the tents were struck, and our heroes went their several ways to enjoy what was left of their vacation before again gathering at Randall. And in that time nothing new developed about the missing cups and jewelry. Nor was any word heard of the pawnbroker or Mendez.


"Hello, there's Dutch Housenlager, bigger than ever!"

"Yes, and there's Bricktop redder than ever. I say, Brick!"

"Hello, Parsons, you look as brown as a berry. What have you been doing with yourself?"

"Camping."

"You look it. I was at the shore—beastly hot, too!"

"Say, isn't the new boathouse swell?"

"Nothing like it. Oh, it's going to be great at Randall this Fall."