Fred Fenton on the Crew Part 8

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Of course the two boats did not always keep exactly on even terms. As one or the other crew exerted themselves a trifle beyond the ordinary there would be a little change. Sometimes it was the outlaw crew that made this gain; and then, on the other hand, Brad would do something to not only even up, but take them a quarter of a boat's length ahead.

It was what might be called a heart-breaking row, and seemed to be anybody's race at the time they shot past Mechanicsburg.

A few score of people were seen running to the river's edge, shouting their astonishment and delight. n.o.body paid the slightest heed to them, however, for the warmth of the race occupied their attention.

And now there were only three more miles before they would arrive at the railroad bridge, which must be accepted as the final goal.

Going down-stream, and at the amazing speed they were now traveling, three miles could not take much time.

"Keep it up, fellows, and we win!" Brad said, again and again, almost unconsciously; for he was watching the river ahead closely for signs of a rock which he knew lay under the surface at a certain point, with an eddy betraying its presence.

He hoped Buck was also aware of its being there, for really it would be too bad if the other boat, with such a history back of it, should be finally wrecked. Brad was almost tempted to shout out a warning, when he saw with one look behind, that, judging from the change in course, Buck was fighting shy of the dangerous quarter. He had been brought up on the banks of the Mohunk, and ought to be acquainted with every foot of ground and water in the vicinity.

The pace had now reached the limit. Neither of the young crews seemed capable of doing any more. But Brad made a discovery that appalled him.

Colon was weakening! The boy had received such a shock on the previous day, when he came so near being drowned in the river, that he was not in as good condition for bearing the tremendous nervous strain as the balance of the crew.

Brad recognized the signs, and feared the worst. Unless they could relax presently Colon would have to give up exhausted. And, of course, that would lose them the race.

It was too bad, and Brad, being a high-spirited lad, would feel the defeat keenly; but he was determined not to take too great chances.

When he saw that Colon had reached the limit he meant to slacken the pace, no matter what happened, nor how much the crew shouted at him for a "quitter."

Buck's boat was coming on again now. Brad doubted whether they had been able to put any fresh vim into their efforts, for that seemed next to impossible, since already every fellow was straining his muscles to the limit. It must be that the growing weakness of Colon was beginning to make itself felt.

Well, what they could not cure they must endure. Colon was too good a fellow to take chances of doing him an injury that would put him off the crew indefinitely. They needed his strong back in that real race with Mechanicsburg.

The others had by now discovered that the outlaw boat was slowly forging ahead, and that, despite all their efforts, the gain continued.

Slowly they could see each opposing oarsman creeping along; and it was discouraging to feel that after all Buck seemed to have the better "stayers" in his crew.

Already they could hear the low, taunting remarks which the others were calling out, and they stung. Defeat is hard enough to stand, when pitted against honorable, high-minded fellows, whose first thought is to give an encouraging cheer for their whipped rivals; but it is doubly painful when forced to listen to all manner of insulting remarks from rough lads devoid of decent feelings, and only bent upon "rubbing it in."

Brad had really lost all hope. He was even about to throw up the sponge, and slacken the pace to such an extent that the people of Riverport, seeing the two boats coming down the river so far apart, would never think they had been racing.

Then something happened, unexpectedly, as it always does in a boat race.

Brad heard a sudden loud snap. He saw that the crew in the other boat seemed to be floundering around in the utmost confusion. One fellow even toppled overboard, though he immediately clutched hold of the speeding boat, and was dragged along with it.

Like a race horse, the boat containing the regular Riverport crew shot past the disabled outlaw craft. Buck was shouting in his disgust. He even shook his fist at his rivals as they went on speeding down the river; and they caught the tenor of his remarks.

"We had you beat good and plenty, never fear, only for that pesky outrigger bustin' on us! Next time we'll rub it in all the harder. You fellers had all the luck to-day. Just wait, that's all!"

And so good fortune saved the day for Brad and his crew, when all seemed lost.

CHAPTER X

FRED'S HOME-COMING

"We win! We win!"

The shouts of the fellows who wielded the oars in the leading boat came floating back to those who were still scrambling around in the cranky outlaw craft.

Buck put his hands to his mouth, in order to make his voice carry the better, and yelled disdainfully after them:

"Yes, you win, but only through a foul! Run into us, and broke one of our outriggers to flinders! But just wait till we get a new one made, we'll beat you to a frazzle! Wait!"

"It wasn't so, was it, Brad?" demanded Corney Shays indignantly; "we never touched his boat, did we?"

"Well, I like his nerve!" cried Sid Wells, for all of them were taking things easy, now that the race was over, and the victory won. "Why, hang it, I don't believe we were within thirty feet of their old boat any time."

"And you're right, Sid," added Brad. "I ought to know, because I was in a position to see everything. When that outrigger smashed they were a quarter of a length ahead. Anybody with half an eye can see that it was the second oar that got in trouble. And boys, believe me, that outrigger was away up opposite our stem, far out of reach of our oars, end on end. It's too silly for anything!"

"But I think, from all I know of the fellow, that it's just like Buck to say a thing like that?" suggested Fred.

"You're right there, Fred," declared d.i.c.k Hendricks; "he never yet lost a game but what, quick as a flash, he made it a point to claim that it was a foul, and the beat an unfair one. Isn't that so, fellows, all you who've known Buck since he was a kid, and always a fighting bully?"

"You never said truer words, d.i.c.k," declared Sid. "And I ought to know, because I've had a dozen fights with Buck in as many years. Fact is, they say we went at each other before we were able to walk, and that he pulled the only tuft of yellow hair out that I owned about then. He used to joke me, and boast that he had that yellow lock at home, tied with a string, just like an Indian would an enemy's scalplock. Oh!

we've been at it, hammer and tongs, ever since. And just as you say, d.i.c.k, he never yet lost a fight or a race or a game but what he set up a howl that the other fellow cheated, or took an unfair advantage of him."

"But by this time the people of Riverport ought to be on to Mr. Buck, and know how little truth there is in his whine," remarked Fred.

"Well, a lot of them do," answered Brad, scornfully, for he was indignant over the small trick of the beaten c.o.xswain; "but you know how it is, Fred. You'll always find a certain percentage of people in every place only too willing to think the worst of you, given half a chance."

"Oh! well, we don't have to bother our heads about it, I suppose,"

remarked Sid. "It's the same old story, nine-tenths believing in our side, and the others backing up Buck. But, fellows, we know what we know. That race was won through a streak of luck for our side, perhaps, and I'm sorry to even admit that; but there wasn't the first hint of foul play on our part."

"And given half a chance," said Corney Shays, "Buck would have easily punched a hole in our boat, if he really believed he was going to be licked. I've known him to do things twice as bad as that, and get away with it too, in the bargain. Accuse him of it, and he'd laugh in your face, and ask how you could prove anything."

"Let's drop Buck and his ways for a while, and think of our chances with those husky Mechanicsburg chaps," observed Brad, as they came in sight of the outlying houses connected with the home town, scattered along the river front.

"Oh! I know what you mean, Brad, all right," spoke up Colon, sensitive to anything like criticism; "every one knows that I weakened toward the end, and that's what threw us out of gear. Couldn't help it, if you killed me. That little trouble I had with the river yesterday must have still bothered me. Never had such a queer feeling grip me before, and hope never to again."

"Oh! I wouldn't bother myself about that, Colon," Brad hastened to say, consolingly; "given a few days to rest, and you'll be as tough as ever.

That strain was heart-breaking, and n.o.body could blame you for wilting under it, after what you pa.s.sed through yesterday. If I'd known we were going to meet that bunch, all primed to give us a race, perhaps I'd have thought it good policy to put Joe in the crew for the run home.

But it all turned out right after all."

"And we won, which was the best part of it!" crowed Corney.

"I differ with you there, Corney," declared Brad. "To me the best part of it was the game quality the whole crew showed. That was an eye-opener to me. I know now what you can stand; and next time won't be so much afraid to push you to the limit, if I feel that every fellow is fit."

"Another thing," remarked Fred, "that is pleasant to know, is the fact that luck broke in our favor. It's been my experience always, in nearly every game, when the teams are about even, that when luck takes to turning one way, that side always wins out. Everything comes their way.

It's begun to like us, boys."

"And we sure have no kick coming," remarked Corney, with emphasis.

There were quite a few people waiting to see what was going to happen.

Fred Fenton on the Crew Part 8

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Fred Fenton on the Crew Part 8 summary

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