PROFESSOR CALLUM SCORES
There was now some practicable object on the part of the crew of the
Riverview Hall four, as Frank and his chums had come to be called.
The date for the race had not been definitely fixed, but it could not
take place inside of two weeks, as Waterside was to row Milton for the
closing race of the season.
"And if Waterside wins, which means that they will be the champions of
the river, and if we beat Waterside," said Andy, "it means that we'll
be the champions! Think of that!"
"Wake up, you're dreaming!" said Jack.
"Yes, turn over, you're on your back," added Ward.
"Well, it's possible," declared Frank, "though I don't hope for any
such luck."
"Don't you want to beat 'em?" asked Andy quickly.
"Sure, but I'm afraid we can't."
"That's treason!" declared Jack.
"Well, we can train, for one thing," said Ward, "and I'm in favor of
it. We can be careful of what we eat, and from now on we ought to do
some other practice work besides rowing. I'm in for any kind of gym
work, or cross-country running to improve our wind."
"I'm with you!" cried Andy, and the rest agreed.
"We ought to have a coach," declared Jack.
"Maybe we could get old Wallace," said Ward eagerly.
"Who's old Wallace?" asked Frank.
"I don't wonder you ask, even though you've been here some weeks," said
Ward. "He's a fellow who's taking a post-graduate course and he's such
a grind that no one except the professors ever sees him. He used to be
an oarsman and I understand he knows a lot about the game."
"The very thing--if we can get him!" cried Andy.
"I'll try," volunteered Ward. "I've done some favors for him, and he
and I are quite friendly."
It was agreed that Ward should try, and this gave the crew something
else to talk about. They adopted a schedule for a training table, for
they all knew the value of proper food and the need of abstaining from
that which was harmful. They would have to be their own masters, as
there was no such thing as a training table at Riverview.
Frank also suggested that it would be a good plan to row over the
racing course occasionally, and see what sort of time they could make.
"We'll have some of the fellows clock us," Jack said, "and we can get a
line on what we can do. I know we've got to hit up the stroke if we're
to beat Waterside, but we're capable of it."
"Sure!" agreed Andy with much enthusiasm. "We'll do those fellows easy.
Say, I've thought up another joke to play."
"Not on your life!" cried the others in a chorus, while Frank added:
"If I catch you trying any of your tricks, brother mine, while this
race is in prospect I'll pack you back home so quick that your hair
will curl."
"Well, you needn't eat me up," complained Andy; but it was noticed that
he did not mention jokes again for some time.
To the surprise and delight of the lads Ed Wallace agreed to coach
them, though he said he had been out of the game so long that he was
quite rusty. But when the crew went out in the shell, and listened to
his caustic, but well-meant criticisms, it was seen that he knew his
business.
"He'll put some starch into us," declared Frank, and the post-graduate
student certainly did.
After he had given them some instructions on successive days they had
marked off a three-mile course--the length of the interscholastic race.
The Riverview lads rowed over this several times.
At first it was discouraging, as they could not come anywhere near
equaling the record they knew had been made by Waterside. But they did
not give up.
"There are only two things to do," Wallace told them. "You must
increase the number of strokes and put more power in them. Then you'll
win."
It sounded easy to say, but it was hard to do, as they seemed already
to be pulling to the limit of their strength and endurance. But they
found that they could do better, and soon, though muscles, wind and
heart made a trio of protests, they knew they were coming nearer the
time made by their rivals.
"I think you'll do," said Wallace at length. "Of course I don't mean
to say you're as fast as those fellows, but you're in their class, and
I think, in the time left, you can come up to them. I believe you can
beat them, barring accidents."
"What, do you mean by accidents?" asked Andy.
"Well, you know our shell isn't very good. The outriggers are old and
two of the oars are split. Something may break."
"Then we'll strengthen things!" exclaimed Frank, and for several
nights after that he and his chums worked over the shell. They finally
decided that they could do no more, and that it would have to serve.
"But if we win this race, we'll have a new shell next year!" declared
Frank determinedly.
The time for the race was drawing near. In a week Waterside was to row
Milton, and then, after a few days' rest, would take on Riverview.
This would mark the closing of the season on the river. Incidentally
our heroes and their chums learned that the race with themselves was
regarded more or less as a joke.
"Well, we'll show 'em that it isn't!" declared Andy hotly. "I'm going
to beat 'em now, or bust an oar."
"Don't do that!" cried Frank quickly. "We haven't any oars to spare.
Just beat 'em."
"We will!" and his brother clapped him on the shoulder.
It was with no little satisfaction that the lads of Riverview heard of
the defeat of Milton Academy by Waterside Hall.
"That's just what we want," declared the young captain. "It gives us a
clear look-in for the championship. If Milton had won we'd have had to
row them after we cleaned up Waterside."
"You're not at all confident," said Jack with a laugh.
All the time they could spare from their lessons the crew spent on
the river. Sometimes they could only snatch a half hour, for with the
advancement of the term studies became harder, and Mr. Callum added
to the troubles of our friends, for he seemed to watch his chance for
making it unpleasant for Frank or Andy and often kept them in after
class for some real or fancied failing.
"But I'm not going to kick," said Frank grimly. "That's just what he's
laying for. He wants to get a hold on us because we're helping Mrs.
Morton and her daughter."
"Heard anything about that case lately?" asked Andy.
"Yes, dad's working on it. I suppose Lawyer Bolton is attending to his
end of it. It will come out right, I hope."
It was the afternoon before the race with Waterside. Every last thing
had been done, the final practice had been held, and the boys of
Riverview were in good trim. They were fit to row for the championship.
"And I think you'll get it, too," declared Coach Wallace. "Go to bed
early to-night, have a good sleep, take care of yourselves, and we'll
have a race worth seeing to-morrow even if we have an old shell."
"That's the stuff!" cried a little crowd that had gathered at the
boathouse. It had been repaired temporarily and was habitable. It was
curious to see the sudden interest in athletics since the Racer boys
had revived racing.
The crew, headed by Frank, was walking up to the dining hall, for it
was nearly time for supper. A telegraph messenger was approaching at a
slow walk, holding a message in one hand and in the other a dime novel
which he was devouring in the half light.
"Hey! Where you going?" called someone.
The lad looked up with a start. Probably seven redskins had just
"bitten the dust."
"I've got a message here for Mr. Frank Racer," he said.
"Hand it over," answered our hero. "I guess it's from dad," he went on
to Andy.
Quickly he tore the envelope open. Then he uttered an exclamation.
"It's from Gertrude," he said to his brother in a low voice. "Old
Thorny has scored one on us. He's brought suit, has secured judgment,
and a deputy sheriff is in possession of their house! I've got to go at
once!"