Of course the Longley boys were keenly disappointed, especially as they had thought they had the game “sewed up,” as some of them expressed it. Yet the contest had been a fair one and they could not find fault over the result.
“You win,” said Ted Maxwell, coming up and shaking hands with Gif. “A good clean game.”
“I was a little out of practice,” grumbled Tommy Flanders. “I bet you couldn’t beat us again,” and he walked off in disgust.
“Now we’ve had a ball game, why can’t we have a few races on the lake, or things like that?” suggested Spouter.
“I’m willing,” put in Bob Mason.
“Maybe we’ll send you a challenge to a boat race,” added Maxwell.
“All right, anything you say,” returned Gif.
After the ball game matters ran along smoothly at the bungalow for a week or more. Dan and the others who were touring left after having had “the time of their lives,” as Walt Baxter expressed it.
There were three rowing matches arranged, a match between two of the boys from Longley and two from Colby Hall, then a match for singles, and finally a match in which the six boys in the camp were pitted against six of their rivals.
“I hope we manage to do something in those boat races,” remarked Fred one day, when the boys were tramping through the woods on another look for the black bear they had seen.
“Well, I think we’ll have a good chance to win,” answered Gif. “We won before, didn’t we?” he went on, with a smile.
“I’ll bet it made them sore to lose that ball game,” came from Jack.
“We sort of paid ’em back for rough-housing the bungalow,” remarked Randy.
“Oh, we’ve got to fix ’em for that yet,” said his brother quickly.
From Mr. Mumbleton the boys had heard that a black bear had been seen on the lower eastern shore of the lake and they had rowed over in that direction.
“I think this is somewhere around the place where Tommy Flanders’ father bought that factory,” remarked Gif, after they had come to a halt to rest for a few minutes. “They said it was on Flat Rock Creek, and, unless I’m mistaken, this is the creek,” and he pointed to a broad and somewhat muddy watercourse.
“I don’t think we care to visit any factories,” answered Spouter. “I don’t see why a fellow should build such a thing up here. It just spoils the scenery.”
The boys spent the best part of the day in the woods. They had, as before, brought their lunch along and rested for nearly an hour after eating it. Then they concluded that they might as well go back to where they had left their rowboat and go home.
“What’s the matter with rowing past the Longley camp? If we see any of the fellows we can ask them if they’re all ready for the boat races,” suggested Fred.
The others were willing, and in a short while came close to the camp of their rivals. Strange to say, no one was in sight, not even Jeff.
“Maybe they’ve gotten rid of that darkey already,” remarked Gif.
“Well, I wouldn’t blame ’em for doing it.”
“Let’s go ashore and take a look around,” suggested Andy, thinking there might be a chance to play some trick on the boys who had “rough-housed” the bungalow.
“You want to be careful that they don’t spot you, Andy,” warned Jack.
They pulled into a little cove under some overhanging trees and then approached the camp very cautiously. Not a soul seemed to be about either of the small bungalows nor at the shed in the rear, and, growing bolder, the lads entered the nearest structure.
“Quick! Let’s give ’em a dose of their own medicine!” exclaimed Andy, and in a twinkling they were all hard at work disarranging the furniture, clothing and the bedding and the entire contents of the kitchen. Then they hurried to the other bungalow.
“Let’s cart the bedding out into the woods. We can hang it over some bushes,” suggested Randy, and this was done with all possible speed.
Then Andy took all the spoons in the place and jammed them down out of sight into a big pot of salt. The forks he jammed down into a pot of sugar.
“I think that’ll keep ’em guessing a little while,” he chuckled.
Only one boat belonging to the Longley camp was to be seen, and after surveying the situation the boys managed to push this under the dock completely out of sight.
“They’ll have to go in swimming to get that boat out,” said Jack, with a laugh.
Having disarranged the entire camp to their satisfaction, the boys hurried back to where they had left their boat and pulled away toward their own shore.
“Here come a couple of boats now!” cried Jack presently. “I think they’re the Longley fellows coming from Rocky Run.”
They kept on rowing and presently the other boats came close enough to be hailed.
“We’ve been taking your friend Jeff down to the railroad station,” explained Ted Maxwell. “We found he was no good—too lazy—so we shipped him.”
“I don’t blame you, Maxwell!” exclaimed Gif. “I thought you’d get enough of him before long!”
“How about the races?” called out Jack. “All ready for them?”
“We’ll be ready when the time comes,” answered another one of the Longley boys.
“How are you going to keep house without Jeff?” questioned Andy.
“Oh, we’ll get along all right enough,” replied Paul Halliday. “We made him put everything in apple-pie order before he left.”
“And you’ll find it in apple-pie order when you get back—I don’t think,” muttered Randy in a low tone, and then the boats separated.
“I’d give a dollar to be on hand when they arrive home,” said Spouter, with a laugh. “Won’t they be mad?”
“Well, it’s tit for tat,” returned Jack. “They mustn’t think they can trick us and get away with it.”
At last came the day for the boat races. The Rover boys and their chums had practiced constantly under Gif’s directions and felt that they had done all they possibly could to win.
“If only the girls were here to see these races,” remarked Fred.
“Yes. And if only they had been on hand to see the ball game,” returned Jack. And then his mind went back to Ruth and to her father and he wondered how Mr. Stevenson was making out about the stolen paint-making formulas.
In the singles Fred was victorious over Billy Sands and Jack came in ahead of Paul Halliday. In the doubles Spouter and Andy lost to Ted Maxwell and another of the Longley boys, while Gif and Randy won with ease over the lad known as Fiddler and Codfish.
Of course the six-oared race, which took place three hours later, was the big event. For this purpose two boats which were almost alike were chosen and a course around a number of the islands was mapped out. Some men in motor-boats from Beldane were asked to act as judges and in the end the event took on quite a look of importance, many coming from all around the lake to witness the contest.
“Here is where we have got to win!” declared one of the Longley boys. “It will even up for losing that ball game.”
“Well, we’re going to win!” cried another, who was one of the best oarsmen at the academy. “If you’ll follow my directions we can’t lose.”
For this race both crews had practiced carefully, and when they came out to the starting line each looked to be in the pink of condition.
The race proved a great surprise in more ways than one. The sun was shining, but there were heavy clouds in the sky and just as the race started it began to rain. Then the wind blew up sharply.
“Row, boys, row!” cried Gif, who was setting the stroke.
“Gee, feel the rain!” murmured Andy. “We’re in for a ducking.”
“Never mind; pull!” answered Jack.
All had caught the stroke perfectly and were doing very well. They did not hurry, for the course was over two miles and a half long and they did not wish to tire themselves out before the finish.
Less than half of the race was over when the sudden summer storm broke in all its fury. There was a vivid lightning flash across the sky followed by a terrific crash of thunder and then came little less than a deluge, which sent many of the observation boats to the shore in a hurry.
“Gee, we’re going to catch a squall!” exclaimed Spouter. And he was right, the heavy gusts of wind soon sending the whitecaps bobbing up and down all around them.
“Don’t give up, boys!” shouted Gif, to make himself heard above the sudden roar of the elements. “We’ve got to win this race, storm or no storm.”
“Here come the Longley boys!” exclaimed Jack, as they were rounding one of the islands. “Great Scott! did you ever see it blow so hard?”
The squall seemed to grow stronger by the instant, and the boys had all they could do to keep the boat from foundering. Nevertheless, they kept to their oars and soon saw the finishing line but a short distance ahead. Only the motor-boat with the judges was nearby, all other craft having hurried away to seek shelter.
Anxious to win the race, the Longley crew also kept on. But they had swerved somewhat from their course, and now in trying to regain the proper position they suddenly shipped a big wave.
“Hi! We can’t stand this!” cried one of the lads in sudden alarm.
“Pull! Pull!” yelled another. “We’ve got to win, I tell you! Pull!”
Then came another vivid flash of lightning over the lake, followed by a deafening clap of thunder. The shock was so terrific that several of the lads in the Longley boat were seen to throw up their hands and let their oars go. Then wind and waves hit the rowboat a smashing blow on the side and over it went, hurling the six occupants into the lake!