to row out to anybody seized with a cramp. There were a number of old bathing-suits aboard, and soon Larry had donned one of these.
"Here goes!" he cried, rushing to the rail. For a moment he stood erect, his hands over his head. Then with a graceful curve he went down, cutting the water like a knife, and disappearing with hardly a splash beneath the bluish-green surface. A few seconds later Luke Striker followed, and then came half a dozen others in a bunch, shrieking, laughing and sporting like so many overgrown boys; for when your true sailor is out for a lark, he never thinks of his age, no matter how old he may be.
The water was warm and refreshing, and never had Larry enjoyed a swim more. He dived half a dozen times, from the yawl, and then challenged Striker to a race around the Columbia, which lay nearly stationary in the swells of the ocean.
"All right, I'll beat ye out of your butes!" cried the Yankee, and splash! splash! both left the yawl at the same instant, and the race began. Captain Ponsberry, standing at the stern, saw what was going on and shouted in approval.
"Go on, both of ye!" he cried. "A prize to the fellow as wins! Striker, the boy will beat ye unless
