"WE WIN! WE WIN! RIVERPORT TAKES THE RACE!"
Fred Fenton on the Crew      Page 196

FRED FENTON ON THE CREW

Or

The Young Oarsmen of Riverport School

By

ALLEN CHAPMAN

OF "FRED FENTON THE PITCHER," "FRED FENTON IN LINE," "TOM FAIRFIELD SERIES," "THE CHUMS SERIES," "BOYS OF PLUCK SERIES," ETC.

ILLUSTRATED

NEW YORK
CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY
PUBLISHERS

BOOKS FOR BOYS

BY ALLEN CHAPMAN

FRED FENTON ATHLETIC SERIES
12mo.      Cloth.      Illustrated.

• FRED FENTON THE PITCHER
• FRED FENTON IN THE LINE
• FRED FENTON ON THE CREW
• FRED FENTON ON THE TRACK

TOM FAIRFIELD SERIES
12mo.      Cloth.      Illustrated.

• TOM FAIRFIELD'S SCHOOLDAYS
• TOM FAIRFIELD AT SEA
• TOM FAIRFIELD IN CAMP
• TOM FAIRFIELD'S PLUCK AND LUCK

THE DAREWELL CHUMS SERIES
12mo.      Cloth.      Illustrated.

• THE DAREWELL CHUMS
• THE DAREWELL CHUMS IN THE CITY
• THE DAREWELL CHUMS IN THE WOODS
• THE DAREWELL CHUMS ON A CRUISE
• THE DAREWELL CHUMS IN A WINTER CAMP

BOYS OF PLUCK SERIES
12mo.      Cloth.      Illustrated.

• THE YOUNG EXPRESS AGENT
• TWO BOY PUBLISHERS
• MAIL ORDER FRANK
• A BUSINESS BOY'S PLUCK
• THE YOUNG LAND AGENT

Cupples & Leon Co. Publishers, New York

Copyrighted 1913, by
Cupples & Leon Company

Fred Fenton On The Crew

Printed in U. S. A.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

• The Finger of Suspicion1
• The Tricky Canoe9
• A Boat Club Meeting17
• In Camp on the Mohunk26
• Hoofs and Horns33
• A Sudden Awakening41
• Ice Cold Waters49
• A Surprise56
• A Lucky Win63
• Fred's Home Coming71
• News From Over Sea79
• Bristles Has an Idea87
• A Call for Help96
• The Missing Opals Again104
• Fred's Brave Stand113
• The Trial Spin121
• Snagged and Wrecked130
• Lying in Wait138
• Nipped in the Bud147
• In the Hollow Oak156
• A Plan to Catch the Thief165
• Telling the Good News173
• The Start of the Race181
• A Great Victory189
• Bright Skies198

FRED FENTON ON THE CREW

CHAPTER I

THE FINGER OF SUSPICION

"Hello! there, Bristles!"

"Hello! yourself, Fred Fenton!"

"Why, what ails you this fine summer morning, Bristles? You don't look as jolly as you might."

"Well, I was only waiting to see if you cared to speak to me, Fred."

"Why in the wide world shouldn't I, when you're one of my chums, Bristles Carpenter?"

Andy Carpenter was known far and wide around the town of Riverport as "Bristles," on account of the way in which his mop of hair stood upright most of the time, much after the manner of the quills on a fretful porcupine.

Usually he was a very good-natured sort of a chap, one of the "give-and-take" kind, so universally liked among schoolboys. But, on this particular early summer morning, with the peaceful Mohunk river running close by, and all Nature smiling, Bristles look glum and distressed, just as his friend Fred Fenton had declared.

"You haven't heard the latest news then?" remarked the boy with the thick head of stiff, wiry hair; and he made a grimace as he spoke.

"If you mean anything about you, then I haven't, for a fact," Fred replied, his wonder deepening into astonishment; for he now saw that Bristles was not playing any kind of a joke, as he had at first suspected.

"Huh! didn't know you had an awful thief for a chum, did you, Fred?" the other went on, laying emphasis on that one suggestive word, and frowning.

"Rats! what sort of stuff are you giving me now, anyway, Bristles?"

"Well, some people think that way, Fred; you ask Miss Alicia Muster, f'rinstance," grumbled the other, shaking his head dolefully.

"But she's your rich old aunt, Bristles!" cried Fred, more surprised than ever.

"That doesn't make any difference," complained the boy who was in trouble; "she believes I took 'em, all the same; 'cause, you see, I just happened to drop in to see her twice inside the last week, worse luck for me; and, Fred, each time one of 'em disappeared the funniest way ever."

"Go on and tell me what you mean; I can only guess that your aunt has met with some sort of loss. But why should she try to lay it on you, Bristles?"

"Huh! you don't know how good that makes me feel, Fred, just to think that one feller isn't goin' to believe me a thief," the other boy went on, drawing a long breath. "Why, even over at our house I seem to notice 'em all lookin' kinder suspicious-like at me; just as if they couldn't quite make up their minds whether I might 'a been tempted to take 'em or not."

"Take what?" demanded Fred, determined to learn the cause of his chum's trouble.

"Why," Bristles went on, "don't you remember that time I took you over to see my queer old maiden aunt, who's got the rheumatics so bad, and lives in the big house all alone with a colored woman, and all her silly pets,—cats, squawkin' crows she cares for like they might be humans; and with that big bulldog chained under her window?"

"Sure, I remember all that; keep going, now you've got started?" Fred broke in.

"And don't you remember her showin' us that collection of pretty stones she said were opals from a Mexican mine she had an interest in long ago?" the other asked, almost breathlessly.

"That's right, Bristles; and you said they just about caught your eye the worst kind," Fred observed. "Fact is, the old lady seemed to be tickled because you showed such a fancy for those milky stones that looked like 'moonlight,' as she called it."

"Gee! you remember too much, Fred," complained the other, with a grimace. "Because you see, it was that silly remark of mine that's gone and got me into a peck of trouble. I really didn't care so much for the things as I let on; but you know, my aunt is as rich as all get out; and it's kind of the fashion over to our house to make her feel good when we can. That was why, I reckon, I made out to admire her collection of opals like I did, though they were pretty enough. Wish now I'd kept my tongue between my teeth; or that it'd been you who took that notion to make out you was interested in 'em."

"And you mean she's lost some of the opals; is that it?" asked Fred.

"Two of 'em gone, she told me yesterday afternoon, when mother sent me over to take her a cake she'd made," Bristles continued.

"And did she really have the nerve to accuse you of stealing them, Bristles?"

"Well, hardly that," replied the other boy, gritting his teeth; "if she had, I reckon I'd a flamed right out, and told her what I thought of old maids that had vinegar natures—I've heard my mom say that, though she told me never to repeat it to Aunt Alicia for anything. You see she acted like she suspected me."

"Oh! and you felt bad on that account, eh?" questioned Fred.

"She told me she'd just been saying to Sallie Kemper, when she was in, that it was the queerest thing ever that twice her lovely little opals disappeared when I visited her on my own account. And Fred, you know as well as I do what Sallie is."

"Sure I do," returned the other, promptly; "I hadn't been in Riverport a great many moons when I learned that she was considered the biggest gossip in the place."

"That's right," Bristles went on. "Sallie went around right away, and told how the rich Miss Muster suspected her own nephew of actually taking some of her beautiful and valuable jewels. It kept gettin' bigger as it was told from one to another, and I just guess my sister Kate brought it home. Mom asked me if I'd done anything wrong, and I said point blank that I'd sooner cut my hand off than steal Aunt Alicia's opals, or touch anything she owned."

"Well, didn't that end it?" asked Fred, who had troubles of his own, and could feel for his chum.

"Oh! nothin' more was said; but I saw mom and pop talkin' together after supper; and when I went out I just know they rooted all around in my room, 'cause things was upset. But Fred, it's just awful to feel everybody lookin' at you with a question in their eyes. I'll never be happy again till I find out what did become of those silly jewels of my aunt's."

"Oh! I wouldn't worry so much as that," counselled Fred. "Perhaps by now she's found where she put the things. Cheer up, Bristles, and think of the great times ahead of us boys of the Riverport school, with that jolly shell coming to us, and the river in fine shape for rowing this summer."

As they walked along the bank of the Mohunk, with Fred trying to cheer his companion up, a few words concerning the young fellows might be in place.

Fred Fenton had come to Riverport within the year. He lived with his father and mother, together with three smaller sisters, in a cottage not far removed from the bank of the river.

Mr. Fenton was employed by a concern in the town. He had at first been connected with a large manufacturing firm in Mechanicsburg, which was located some three miles up the river; but lost his position through the influence of Squire Lemington, who had a reason for wishing him to feel the biting pangs of poverty.

An uncle of Fred's had left some valuable property up in Alaska, which would make the Fentons comfortable if they could only get hold of it. Unfortunately a big syndicate, with which Sparks Lemington was connected, pretended to have a claim on this mining property, and was doing everything possible to keep Mr. Fenton out of it.

An important witness, whose evidence would have undoubtedly proved the Fentons to be the genuine owners, had been mysteriously carried off. His name was Hiram Masterson, and he was really a nephew of Sparks Lemington. Mr. Fenton had gone to the city late in the preceding Fall, under the belief that the missing witness was found; but arrived too late, since Hiram had been "shanghaied" aboard a sailing vessel belonging to the big syndicate, and carried away to unknown seas, perhaps never to return.

So hope had gradually dwindled down to a very faint spark in the breasts of the Fentons, though they still refused to utterly give up dreaming that some day all would be made right.

Fred had soon made many friends among the boys of Riverport, and some enemies as well. How he became the leading pitcher of the school team, and played his part in the great games against Paulding and Mechanicsburg, has been described in the first volume of this series, entitled "Fred Fenton, the Pitcher; Or, The Rivals of Riverport School."

The chief enemy of Fred was Buck Lemington, son of the Squire, who had planned to ruin the Fentons' hopes for fortune. And just how the bully of the town, taking pattern from his father's usual methods of procedure, tried to get Fred disgraced, so that he could not play on the football team that Fall, you will find described in the second volume called: "Fred Fenton in the Line; Or, The Football Boys of Riverport School."

During the Winter and early Spring Fred had continued to hold the good opinions of most of his schoolmates; and with the summer now at hand he was ready to join with a boy's enthusiasm in the new sports that the season brought in its train.

Talking earnestly, the two lads were still walking along the edge of the river some little distance above the town, when, just as they turned a bend in the stream, they heard a sharp scream, accompanied by much splashing in the water.

"Listen to that racket, would you, Fred?" cried Bristles, turning toward his comrade, his face filled with alarm; "as sure as you live, somebody's fallen into the river, and it sounds like a child, too."

"Come on!" was all Fred said in reply; indeed, even while throwing these two words over his shoulder he was leaping down the bank of the Mohunk.

CHAPTER II

THE TRICKY CANOE

Fred reached the edge of the water almost before his companion realized what was going on. Throwing off his coat and discarding his shoes he plunged headlong into the river.

A canoe had unset in the stream, and a small boy was struggling to maintain his desperate clutch on the sloping side of the craft floating with the current.

Fortunately the swift stream was bringing it toward Fred as he plunged into the water. Had it been otherwise he would hardly have been able to reach it before the boy sank for the last time.

Bristles Carpenter had by now recovered his wits, and about the time Fred gave that mighty splash, when going headlong into the river, he too was hurrying down the bank, trying in his clumsy fashion also to discard his coat and shoes.

The Fenton boy had, meanwhile, struck out straight for the canoe, with the little lad trying vainly to get hold of the bobbing gunwales, disappearing under the surface several times, to come up again spluttering, and choking.

Fred was a good swimmer, and never in all his past life had he known such an occasion for making speed as then. He saw that the small boy could not remain long above the water; and if he did go down, it might be next to impossible to find him in time to get him ashore while life remained.

Just as Bristles, panting for breath, and eager to lend a helping hand, arrived at the brink of the water, he saw his chum reach out, and grasp the sinking child by the shoulder.

"Whoo!"

That was Bristles, trying to give a cheer, but making a sad mess of it because of shortness of breath.

He saw that Fred, by a great effort, had raised the little fellow, and actually pushed him into the canoe, which had not overturned when it threw its occupant into the treacherous river, though the craft was much waterladen.

And now the rescuer was starting to swim back toward the shore, urging the little craft along with him.

Bristles Carpenter had actually started into the river, and was already almost up to his waist when he chanced to remember that he was accounted one of the poorest swimmers among the Riverport boys.

"Don't come out, Bristles; stay there and try to give me a hand!"

From the way Fred called this, it was evident that his recent exertions must have quite exhausted him; and that he felt the need of some assistance, in order to get ashore with the canoe. The current was particularly strong at this place, it being accounted one of the danger spots of the Mohunk; and it seemed averse to letting its intended victim get away from its grip.

Once Bristles had caught hold of Fred's arm he braced himself, and soon the other was able to get his feet on the bottom.

Together they drew the canoe to the shore.

"Why, hello! here's a queer thing!" exclaimed Bristles, as, having clambered out of the river he bent down to look at the half-drowned lad in the canoe; "did you know it was little Billy Lemington you yanked out of the water?"

"Yes, I knew it all along," replied Fred, as he squeezed some of the water from his trousers, and then leaned over to see how the boy was coming on.

Considering what a narrow escape little Billy had just had, he seemed to be pretty well off. He had swallowed some water, it was true, and his face was ashen white; but he could get up on his knees, and was soon feeling better.

"It just kicked me out," he said, when Bristles asked him how the accident had happened.

"Say, that's a way all canoes have, I understand," Bristles chuckled. "They just watch till you're not lookin', and then chuck you overboard. Some of 'em are worse than a bucking bronco at throwing a feller. But looky here, Billy, how does it come you're in this cranky boat? I'd 'a thought your dad would have told you to leave Buck's canoe alone."

"He did," replied the little fellow, with a half sob; "but I thought I knowed how to manage it. But I'm never goin' to try again, no siree. But won't I get it when they hear all about me bein' in the water! Wish you wouldn't tell on me. Pop'll just give me hot cakes for not mindin' him. Please don't tell. I'll promise never to get in this old boat again, sure I will!"

Fred and Bristles exchanged glances.

"What do you say, Fred?" asked the latter; "ought we keep still about it?"

Under ordinary circumstances Fred would have said that the parents of the boy ought to know what chances he had been taking; but the conditions were rather peculiar just then. If he told, it would seem as if he might be trying to "draw the teeth" of his enemy, Buck Lemington, by boasting how he had saved the latter's little brother, of whom the bully was especially fond. And Fred's pride rose at the idea of his being considered that sort of a fellow.

"Oh! I'm willing to keep mum about it, Bristles, if you are," he said, slowly, after having duly considered the matter. "He promises never to get in this cranky canoe again. For the life of me I can't see how he ever paddled it all the way up here."

"I didn't," spoke up Billy, quickly. "Buck lent it to Bob Armstrong, and last night I heard him say he thought it funny Bob didn't drop down with his boat. So I just thought to-day I'd walk up to Bob's and if he was around, tell him I'd come for our canoe."

"And Bob was silly enough to let you have it, eh?" asked Bristles, indignantly.

Billy was rapidly recovering his nerve. He even made a wry face as he went on to answer the question put to him.

"Why no. You see Bob, he wasn't around; so, because I didn't want to have my long walk all for nothin', I just hunted up the paddle in his woodshed, and started for our house. I'd a made it, too, if I hadn't leaned too far over when a rock bumped into us, and the old thing just pitched me out."

"Well," said Fred, laughingly, "suppose you jump around a little, and dry off before you go home, Billy. And neither of us will let on what happened. I'll get the canoe down to your house in some fashion, though I hope Buck will be away this morning."

"He's gone off with some of the fellers to Grafton, to look at somethin' they want to buy," the small chap continued; "and he won't be back till noon. That's just why I thought I'd help get his boat down the river. You see Bob's with him, I guess."

So after they had seen Billy scamper away, keeping in the warm sun so as to get his clothes dried, and avoiding the road so that he might not meet inquisitive people who would wonder how he came to be so wet, Fred and Bristles together entered the canoe, the latter having recovered his shoes and coat.

They recovered the paddle and Fred pushed off, and went quietly along down the river until finally he was able to bring the craft to the shore at the place where Buck generally kept it housed in a small shanty he had built.

They tied it up, and sauntered away. By this time their clothes had dried fairly well.

They were just leaving the vicinity of the boat house where Buck kept the canoe, when Bristles caught sight of a boy staring hard at them from a little distance along the river bank.

"After all, Fred, I reckon that we'll hear something drop about this little matter," he declared; "because, you see, there's Sam Jinks watching us with his eyes just popping half out of his head. He wonders what we've been doing with Buck's canoe, because he knows right well we never borrowed it. And make up your mind Sam'll tell him all about it the first chance he gets, because he wants to get in with that bunch."

"All right," replied Fred, with a shrug of his shoulders; "I don't see where we've got any reason to worry about it. Just say we found the boat drifting on the current of the river, which is the truth, Bristles. Buck can carry on any way he likes; we won't give him any satisfaction. And now, let's get back to what we were talking about when all this rumpus came along; the chances for a boat club in Riverport."

CHAPTER III

A BOAT CLUB MEETING

"Great news, Fred! Our boat's come!"

"Come on down to the railroad yards, and see her, Fred!"

Two boys stood outside the Fenton cottage, and shouted these words up at Fred Fenton, who was leaning from the window of his room. It was several days after the events narrated in the preceding chapters, and Fred had meanwhile gone quietly on his way, saying not a word about the accident, whereby little Billy Lemington would have surely lost his life only for the good luck that brought Fred and Bristles to the river in time.

Fred had not happened to run across Buck Lemington since, and hence did not know whether or not the bully had been told about Bristles and himself arriving with the canoe.

Of course Fred made haste to rush out of the house at hearing the news brought by Bristles Carpenter and Sid Wells, the latter his most particular chum.

"When did it arrive?" he demanded, adjusting his cap as he came up, and immediately falling into step with the other eager fellows as they hurried off.

"Last night, I reckon," replied Sid. "I just happened to wander down there this morning, never thinking to run across a surprise, when what did I see but a long crate, and inside that a splendid eight-oar shell, just what we ordered with that money we earned in the winter, giving minstrel shows and gymnastic performances. It's a great day for Riverport school, fellows; and well have a dandy time this summer, believe me!"

"I wish Mechanicsburg or Paulding would get a boat like ours, and give us a race on the river," remarked Bristles, eagerly.

"Say, wouldn't that be just the best ever?" Sid went on; "we beat 'em out at baseball, and on the gridiron; perhaps we might win another victory on the water. The Mohunk is a good stream for rowing, at certain times of the year."

"I suppose a lot of the boys are down there right now, all talking about what a great time this summer will be for the nine lucky fellows, and their substitutes?" remarked Fred, as they walked on into the town; for the Fenton's lived a little way outside.

"Why, nearly the whole school is down there, and such jabbering you never heard," laughed Sid.

Bristles tried to catch the eye of the third member of the group.

"Yes," he remarked, with emphasis, "and Buck Lemington, he's there on deck, big as ever. To hear him talk you'd think he was already made coxswain of the crew, and could lord it over the rest of us like a king."

"That's always his way, to claim everything at the first, and then give up a little, inch by inch," declared Sid. "There are just seventeen members of the rowing club, all picked out as being the best in the school. And who will be coxswain depends on the vote they'll take at the meeting to-night. I know one right now who'll never vote; for Buck Lemington."

"Make it two, just for luck," Bristles said, with a grin; "and there are others to be heard from, also. Between you and me and the lamp-post, boys, I reckon Buck will get just five votes, besides his own; and they'll come from his cronies, Whitey, Clem Shocks, Oscar Jones, Con Jimmerson and Ben Cushing. The rest will go in another direction that I won't mention right now."

He and Sid exchanged winks and nods as though there might be a secret between them; but Fred was paying no attention to this "wireless telegraphy."

"Tell me, did you run across Buck, yourself, Bristles?"

"Sure I did," replied the other; "and that was just what I was goin' to tell you about. He came swaggering up to me, just like he always does, you know, and wanted to know what business I had in his canoe—that he heard you'n me was seen fastening up alongside his boathouse t'other day."

"And what did you say?" demanded Fred, smiling at the aggressive manner of the boy who had the mop of hair.

"Me? Oh! I pretended that we'd found the little boat driftin' down the river, and waded in to get her," Bristles went on.

"Of course he didn't believe you?" Fred questioned.

"Not much. But I didn't get riled up worth a cent, Fred, just grinned in his face, and kept on saying it was so, and we did find the boat adrift. Then, what d'ye think, he says that Bob Armstrong told him the paddle was all the while in the woodshed, so if the canoe did break loose, however in the world could it have been with the boat, 'less we took it?"

"We know, all right; don't we, Bristles? Oh! never mind winking, and looking at Sid here, because I told him all about it, and he'll never peach; will you, Sid?"

"Not much," replied the other, promptly; "all the same, I think you're doing the wrong thing to keep so close-mouthed about it. I'd just glory in telling Buck how his little brother Billy would have been drowned if you hadn't happened to be nearby when he was pitched out of the canoe."

"Well, we made up our minds to keep quiet about it," Fred continued, quietly; "and what Buck believes cuts mighty little figure in it. But there's the railroad yard, and what a mob of boys and girls I've seen since school closed. Whew! I should think every fellow in town had got wind of it by this time; and I'm the last to know."

There was indeed great excitement around the spot where lay the long shell, cased in its stout crate, having been lifted off the car upon which it had come from the boat-building establishment.

Temporary quarters had been arranged for, until some later date, when possibly a new boathouse might be erected, provided the town people contributed the amount necessary.

That night, in the schoolhouse, there was called a meeting of the members of the Riverport Boat Club in order to transact business of great importance. Buck Lemington was more friendly than he had ever before been known. But those boys who knew him so well understood what his sudden conversion meant. He aspired to fill the important position of coxswain on the crew, and was figuring to gain the votes of a majority of those entitled to pass judgment and select officers.

It was well known that Brad Morton, the same boy who had carried the football team to victory during the last season, as captain, had once rowed in a racing shell when visiting a relative in a college town. And his name had been mentioned pretty much in opposition to Buck, who also claimed to have had experience.

And as the coxswain was to have the power of choosing the members of his crew, it can be seen that the position was one carrying a certain amount of influence with it. As only eight fellows could be given places on the regular crew in the shell, and Buck's five cronies were all eager to be ranked as members, they electioneered for him most industriously.

Fred had been given the place as chairman of the meeting, and he tried to carry out the duties of his position without fear or favor. What he wished to see was a square deal, with the best man winning out.

After considerable talk, in which many of the boys joined, two candidates for the position of coxswain were put in nomination, Buck and Brad. And each had a noisy send-off when his backer started to tell what virtues as a coxswain the candidate possessed.

"Move we vote!" shouted Bristles Carpenter, anxious to get the agony over.

"Question! A motion that we proceed to vote has been made, Mr. Chairman!" called out Corney Shays, whose father was an old college man, and had once, many years back, rowed in a junior four-oared race.

"Any second?" asked the Chairman.

"I second the motion!" came from half a dozen throats.

It was carried with a rush; and then the tellers went around, giving each one a slip of paper on which he was to write the name of the candidate he preferred to serve as coxswain during the season that was at hand.

A few minutes later the tellers collected the slips, which were accurately counted, so that there should be no chance of fraud or mistakes. Then the result was announced by the chairman, as written out by the tellers.

"Whole number of votes cast, seventeen. For Buck Lemington, six votes; for Brad Morton eleven. Which, being a majority, makes Brad Morton the coxswain of the Riverport Boat Club."

Then a great uproar broke out, all of the boys shouting or cheering. Those who had voted for Buck Lemington, taking cue from their leader, declared that the election had not been fairly carried on; and that had all those interested in the club been allowed to vote, and not just those who expected to take part in the actual rowing, he would have carried the day.

Buck himself was crimson with rage. He never could take defeat in a manly way, but burst into a passion. Jumping up, he rallied his five cronies around him. There was mutiny in the air, Fred saw, nor was he in his heart at all sorry, for Buck had promised to be the disturbing element in the association from the start.

"Cheat me out of the position, will you?" he shouted, shaking his fist at the others, after the shouting had stopped, and everybody was staring at him; "make Brad Morton coxswain when I know more about the duties of the job in a minute than he can in a year! All right, I'm going to wash my hands of the whole bunch; and here's five husky fellers that'll go along with me. Keep your old boat, if you want to. I expected somethin' like this'd happen; and let me tell you, fellers, we've been up to Grafton to see an eight-oar shell that once won a college race. We've got an option on her, too, and just understand we'll buy her in, challenge your crowd to a race, and beat you to flinders! Come along, fellers, we don't train with this crowd any more," and the six stalked out of the building with sneers on their faces, amid a dead silence.

CHAPTER IV

IN CAMP ON THE MOHUNK

On the day following the exciting meeting in the schoolhouse, the members of the boat club connected with Riverport school were in camp some miles up the Mohunk river, wishing to practice in their new shell, where curious eyes might not watch them.

It was expected that they would stay several days in camp; so tents had been taken along, as well as all sorts of supplies calculated to help the cooks in their work.

The rebellion of Buck Lemington had not bothered Brad and his friends very much. True, several of their best scullers had been lost by the mutiny; but some of the more promising substitutes were moved up into regular positions, and others taken on to fill the places thus vacated; for there was no lack of candidates among the boys of Riverport school.

Ever since Buck had let out his secret the talk had been about the possibility of the rival crew sending them a challenge, and an actual race taking place somewhere near Riverport, with hundreds of cheering people to watch the contest.

It thrilled the boys just to talk about such a happening.

"Don't get too gay, fellows," remarked a tall lad, whose name was Colon, and who had always been a good friend of Fred Fenton, from the day the latter first came to town. "Buck Lemington is a big bag of wind when it comes to bragging about what he's going to do. I think I can see him buying that shell over at Grafton, that Colonel Simms owns. His boy who went to college rowed in her, you know. There isn't money enough in Riverport to buy that boat."

"Oh! I don't know," broke in Dave Hanshaw, who had always been more or less of a crack athlete on Riverport's teams; "I heard my father saying only last night that the old Colonel had lost all his money, and was selling out over in Grafton. So you see, perhaps he might be willing to let that pet boat, in which his son rowed to victory, go for a certain sum."

"And Buck," observed Colon, "must have got wind of it a while back. Oh! he's a cute one, all right. He knows how to feather his nest. When he came to count noses he understood that there wasn't a show for him to be elected cox. in our club; so he gets ready to organize a little one on his own account. Wise old Buck, he knows which side his bread is buttered."

"Hey! look who's coming on his wheel over yonder!" called out Dick Hendricks.

"Who is it?"

"Why, it looks like Sandy Richards. But what can he want up here, when they all understood we didn't expect to have visitors?" Corney Shays observed.

Some of the boys began to show signs of sudden nervousness. They were not used to being away overnight from home, and could immediately picture all sorts of things as having happened since their departure very early that morning. Possibly to some of them it already seemed as though they had been off for a week.

The younger boy on the wheel soon arrived at a point close to the camp. Abandoning his bicycle at the roadside he climbed the fence, crossed the field, and came to the fringe of timber.

"Who's it for, Sandy?" asked Brad; and possibly there was just a trifling tremor in his own voice, though he tried to hide it in a fashion.

"Got your name on it, Brad; and she's addressed to the Coxswain of the Riverport Boat Club," answered the boy, promptly; looking around him curiously at the camp, where he would very naturally have liked to remain, simply because it was forbidden territory.

"A challenge, that's what!" yelled Bristles.

"Buck's made good already, just think of it!" cried Corney Shays, throwing up his cap, and then jumping on it when it landed; a habit he had of working off any excitement.

All eyes were turned on Brad as he tore off the end of the envelope. They saw his eyebrows go up in a manner to indicate surprise; and there also came a look of considerable satisfaction upon his honest face.

"Where'd you get this, Sandy?" he demanded, turning to the bicycle rider.

"Why, you see, Felix Wagner brought it over; and they wouldn't think of letting him come along up here, so I was sent with it," the boy replied, promptly.

"Felix Wagner!" ejaculated Sid Wells; "say, has Buck had to go and borrow a Mechanicsburg fellow to fill out his eight?"

"Hold on," interrupted Brad; "don't jump at things that way, Sid. This isn't a challenge from Buck at all. It's from Mechanicsburg!"

"What's that?" shouted Colon; "are you telling me they've gone and got a boat up at that town, and want to race us for the championship of the Mohunk? That would be the best news ever, fellows!"

"That's just what's happened," Brad went on. "This paper is signed by Dub Jasper, who used to pitch for their baseball club, you remember fellows. Well, he's the coxswain of the Mechanicsburg Boat Club crew. He says they've got a shell on the way, and he hereby challenges us to a match, to be rowed within a month from date, and according to regular rules, the distance being marked off between their town and ours, in just what happens to be the best water at the time. How about that?"

"Accept it, Brad!" several shouted, in great excitement.

"Say, things in the boating line are picking up ground here," Corney Shays cried, laughingly. "Three shells on the river, to make things lively. If this keeps on the Mohunk will become the most famous boat course in this part of the country."

As a unanimous vote to accept the challenge followed, Brad retired to his tent, where he wrote out a reply to the proposal made by Mechanicsburg; details to be decided later on. Sandy was accordingly dispatched with this missive, and requested to drop in again after he had seen the rival young athletes of the neighboring town.

When Sandy returned, showing by the signs that he had made a swift passage from Mechanicsburg, some miles down the river, all the boys crowded around to ask him questions.

"Oh! they're all worked up over there about it," replied the panting boy. "Seems like every feller in the old town is wild with the news that they're a-goin' to have a boat like ours, a present from the big manufacturer, Mr. Gobbler; and they all say they expect to lick the stuffing out of poor old Riverport this time, because the boys in their town have always been more like water ducks than we have, rowing boats, skating, making ice-boats, and all such things."

"They're welcome to a think that way," laughed Corney Shays, apparently delighted with the prospect; "but perhaps we Riverport boys aren't so sleepy after all. We're just going to surprise 'em some; eh, fellers?"

Judging from the shouts that broke out, all of them believed the same as the confident Corney. Sandy was soon sent back to the home town to report that the members of the boat club were nicely fixed in camp, and that none of their folks need worry a minute about them.

So evening found them, with the several appointed cooks busily engaged in their work preparing supper. It was pronounced a fine meal, and as every lad had brought his vacation appetite along with him, the inroad they made upon the stock of provisions gave small hope that there would be anything to take back, when the little camping and training trip was over.

Afterwards they sat around the blazing logs, for the evening had turned a bit cool, and it was pleasant near a cheerful camp fire. The conversation changed from one thing to another; but always seemed to return again to the exciting event of that day—when the challenge was received from Mechanicsburg.

In imagination some of the young oarsmen doubtless already saw the scene that would take place upon the banks of the Mohunk when the rival towns cheered their pet crews on to victory, or defeat.

Into the midst of all this good-natured chaffing and chattering, Bristles Carpenter suddenly burst, with his hair more on end than ever, it seemed, and his face white with apprehension.

"Hey! wake up, fellers!" he cried. "There's some sneak down near our boat, and just as like as not he's been trying to cut a hole in her, so we can't row in any race! I saw him creeping around, when I stepped out just now!"