THE OLD SHELL
"Say, isn't it tough luck?"
"It sure is."
"And just after we thought things were going so nicely."
"Old Thorny seems glad of it."
"That's because he doesn't take any interest in sport."
"But Dr. Doolittle is pretty well broken up."
"Sure thing. It's hard for him."
The above conversation was going on among a group of Riverview Hall
students several days after the events narrated in the last chapter. In
fact following the disappointing visit of the millionaire little else
had been talked about. Our two heroes and their chums were in the group.
"I heard," remarked Jack Sanderson, "that the reason Mr. Lairman backed
down was because the school was so slow."
"Slow? How do you mean?" asked Frank Racer.
"I mean in regard to athletics. He wasn't so much impressed by the
buildings being out of condition and all that, but I hear that when
he saw the diamond all overgrown with weeds, and the gridiron all but
invisible, and the boathouse a wreck, he threw up the sponge."
"I don't blame him," remarked Andy. "It's partly our fault. We fellows
ought to do something."
"But what can we do?" asked Ward Platt. "We can't start a football
eleven without some money, and I know I can't put up much cash."
"We don't need much," insisted Andy. "We ought to be able to get up
some sort of a crew or eleven and challenge Waterside Hall or Milton
Academy."
"What! Challenge those fellows?" cried several.
"Yes, why not?" Frank wanted to know, with an air of quiet
determination.
"They'd only laugh at us," was Jack's opinion.
"Let 'em laugh then," said Andy. "We can stand it if they can. Say,
you fellows may be used to this sort of thing," and he waved his hand
around the diamond, over which they were walking, "but my brother and I
are not. We're used to doing things; eh, Frank?"
"That's what. And we'll do 'em now. If there was only some way we could
get up a contest. Isn't there an old football around here?"
"I have one," said Ward, "but it's a little warm to even practice
to-day. It's better suited to rowing."
"Can't row when you haven't a shell," said Frank. "Get the ball, and
we'll have a little fun anyhow."
Soon afterward twenty-two lads, who had donned old clothes, for there
was not a football suit in the whole school, were kicking an old ball
about, falling on it, running with it, and doing their best to play a
regulation game. It was hard, as few save Frank, Andy and their two
chums knew the rules, but they soon warmed up and were very much in
earnest.
"Bless my soul!" exclaimed Dr. Doolittle a short time after this, as
he was crossing the campus with Professor Callum. "What are the boys
doing?"
"Playing football it seems," answered the crabbed instructor with a
sarcastic laugh. "They might better be at their studies."
"Oh, boys must play," said the good doctor with a sigh. "But I did not
know they had an eleven. It is almost--like old times."
"It isn't a regular team," explained the professor. "I fancy it is some
of the doings of those Racer boys."
"The more credit to them. They are manly chaps. I am sorry they were
ill the other night."
"Ill!" exclaimed Mr. Callum. "They were----"
"Oh, yes, I remember now. You told me they were out after hours without
permission. I can't understand it--can't understand it," and the doctor
walked on, slowly nodding his head and thinking of many things, chief
among which was where he could raise the money to pay many pending
bills.
"That's the best fun we've had in a long time!" panted Jack, when the
impromptu game was over.
"Yes, let's have it again to-morrow," added a well-built lad who had
been playing center.
"I'm glad you Racer boys came here. You're waking us up," was a third
comment.
"Wait; we haven't begun yet," said Frank with a laugh. "Have we, Andy?"
"That's right. I have a whole barrel of jokes yet that I haven't
unpacked. Wait a bit."
"Better go slow on the jokes," warned his brother when they were alone.
"Old Thorny is just waiting for another chance at us, and when it
comes, as it's almost sure to, we won't get off so easy."
"Oh, don't borrow trouble," advised Andy with a laugh.
"I wish we could borrow a shell, or some kind of a boat to race in,"
went on Frank. "Come on down to the river. Bill Spalter isn't using
his boat, and we'll have a little row. We will have time just before
supper."
"I'm with you. Go ahead."
They went down the river about a mile and rowed back at such speed as
"the tub" was limited to.
"It's a pity there aren't any more boats around here," Frank remarked
to Bill, as they tied up his craft. "What became of the racing shells
they used to have when this school was in its prime?"
"Racing shells!" exclaimed Bill with a laugh. "They don't last many
seasons. But I think there's an old one around here somewhere."
"There is?" cried Frank eagerly.
"Where is it?" demanded Andy.
"Well, the last I seen of it she was over in the old barn, up overhead
on some beams. I don't believe it's any good, though. It's a four-oared
one, and was quite fast in its day."
"Let's go have a look at it," suggested Frank.
"Come on, Andy. We've got time."
"It's too dark," objected his brother.
"Here's a lantern," suggested Bill. "I'd be glad to see some life about
this place. Maybe they'd raise my wages then. The shell is in the big
barn, not the little one."
Very eager over the unexpected news they had heard, Frank and Andy
hurried on, swinging the lighted lantern.
"What's up?" a voice hailed them.
"They're two Diogenes chaps looking for a dishonest man," said another.
"There's Jack and Ward," said Andy. "Shall we tell 'em?"
"Sure." Thereupon the two chums were let into the secret.
"I'm afraid a shell that's been in the barn several years isn't much
good," was Jack's opinion.
"Maybe we can fix it up," said Ward, more hopefully.
The boys found the shell covered with dust, hayseed and odds and ends
of refuse. Eagerly they flashed the light of the lantern upon its
slender outlines.
"It was a beaut in it's day," was Frank's opinion.
"Yes, and I think we can patch it up and use it," declared Andy, who
knew almost as much about boats as did his brother. "We'll have a shell
yet."
"Do you really think you can?" inquired Jack, eagerly.
"It's worth trying," said Frank, after another critical inspection. "I
wish we had it on the ground and it was daylight, I think----"
"Cheese it!" Andy interrupted him. "Someone is coming along the path."
"It's old Thorny," said Ward, after a look out of an upper window.
"By Jove! Just my luck!" exclaimed Andy in a whisper.
"What's the matter?" Ward inquired.
"I've just thought of a dandy trick to play on him. Will you fellows
help?"
"Another trick!" half groaned Frank, who knew his brother's failing.
"Are you game?" demanded Andy of the two new chums.
"Sure," said Jack.
"Lead on," came from Ward.
"Then draw hither and list, my brave comrades," whispered the younger
Racer lad as they gathered about the lantern.