AN IMPROMPTU RACE BETWEEN THE BEECH HILL BARGES.
"Here are eight of us, and not one of the eight has touched any beer
since he joined the school," said Lew Shoreham, after the majority of
the boys had gone, and he had got the bearings of the question under
discussion.
"I am in favor of standing out, for one," added Tom Ridley. "I am
willing to do my duty and obey all the rules, but I am not going to be
rigged out like a state-prison bird when I haven't done anything out of
the way."
"It looks like punishing the whole crowd for the sins of the two fellows
who drank the beer," continued Harry Franklin.
"If the captain knows who the fellows are, why don't he put them into
uniform, and not make black sheep of the whole of us?"
"I don't believe in doing anything in a hurry," interposed Bart
Cornwall. "If we are going to stand out, we want to know what we are
about before we begin."
"That's my idea," added Bob Swanton. "Let us understand what we are
going to do before we begin."
"Perhaps we had better talk it over among ourselves before we do
anything," mused Lew Shoreham. "There is time enough before to-morrow
morning."
"That's the idea," Life Windham chimed in. "The worst we can do is to
refuse to wear the uniform; and we can't refuse before the clothes are
given to us."
"By the way, did you fellows hear that the Chesterfield students have
two barges like ours?" inquired Phil Gawner.
"I know they have, for I saw the kid-glovers out in them," replied Lick
Milton.
"When did you see them, Lick?" asked Lew Shoreham.
"Day before yesterday. They were pulling in the barges near the shore."
"The rest of the fellows will go off without us if we don't hurry up,"
added Bart Cornwall. "Sandy Beach is not far from the Chesterfield
Institute."
Phil Gawner bolted from the room in hot haste, and the other rebels
followed him. The rebellion seemed to be forgotten, for there was
already something like rivalry existing between the two educational
institutions on the opposite sides of the lake. The Chesterfield young
gentlemen, when they came within hailing distance of the boys of Beech
Hill, had taken occasion to manifest their contempt by words, signs, and
other demonstrations. They called the industrial school "The Tinkers'
Institute," and this term was exceedingly offensive to our boys.
But the beautiful steam yacht in which the "Tinkers" voyaged on the
lake, and especially the magnificent twelve-oar barges in which they
sported upon the waves, excited the envy of the "Kid-Glovers." Colonel
Buckmill suddenly found his prestige slipping away from him. He had a
variety of boats for the use of his students, though none of them were
sailing craft. He was no sailor himself, and he had a mortal dread of
sailboats.
As soon as he realized the state of feeling among his students, he
hastened to New York, where he succeeded in finding a couple of barges
like those which had been built for the Beech Hill school. He had
purchased them at a large price, and they had arrived a few days
before. Colonel Buckmill was a soldier and a gentleman, but he wished
that Captain Gildrock had located his fanciful school, as he regarded
it, a thousand miles from Lake Champlain.
"What's the matter now?" demanded Matt Randolph, when the rebels rushed
out on the pier at which the two barges lay. "I thought you were going
to deprive us of the pleasure of your company to-day."
"We have concluded to go with you, and keep you out of hot water,"
replied Lew.
"And keep yourselves out of hot water, which is more sensible," added
the coxswain of the Gildrock, as he seated his crew in the boat.
"I thought you were not going for fear some one would see you and know
that you belong to the B. H. I. S.," added Will Orwell, with a laugh.
"Up oars!" shouted Matt, when the crew of both boats were seated; and
the order was repeated by Dory.
Ten oars in each boat went up to a perpendicular, with the flat side of
the blades parallel with the thwarts. The coxswains looked them over to
see that all were in proper position.
"Shove off!" continued the coxswains.
The bow oarsmen shoved off the head of each barge, and the stroke
oarsmen used their boathooks until the boats were clear of the pier.
Then the bowmen coiled up the painters, and the after oarsmen took care
of the stern lines. When they had done this duty, they elevated their
oars without any orders.
"Let fall!" said Matt and Dory, when the boats were clear of the pier.
The crews had been so well trained that the twenty-four oars struck the
water at the same instant; but the loom, or part near the handle, of the
oars was not allowed to fall upon the rail, or into the rowlocks. They
are put in proper position after they are dropped.
"Give way--together!" said Matt and Dory, when they had seen that each
oarsman was ready for the pull.
All the rowers caught the stroke the first time trying, but it had taken
a great deal of practice to enable them to do so. The boys pulled a very
even, uniform, and steady stroke. All the oars were raised to the same
height above the water, and sunk to the same depth beneath its surface.
The barges were not mere fancy craft, built for speed, and for nothing
else. Considering their great size they were very light, but they were
strongly built. They were constructed after a beautiful model, yet at
the same time they were good sea boats, able and safe. As the students
were liable to be caught on the other side of the lake in rough weather,
Captain Gildrock considered staunch boats as necessary on Lake Champlain
as on the ocean. The short, choppy sea of the fresh-water lakes is more
trying to any kind of a craft than the long waves of the Atlantic.
The two barges darted down the lake as though they had been shot from a
gun. It was a cool day, with the wind fresh from the northwest, and the
crews were in just the right condition to do their best at the oars.
Since their recent defeat in the race, the first class had been working
hard to improve in rowing, and Matt Randolph had succeeded in imparting
his own enthusiasm to his crew. But nothing was said about another race,
for the first class meant to be sure before they risked another trial.
Dory Dornwood saw what the machinists--as they sometimes called the
higher class--were about, and he did not go to sleep.
The boats passed through the narrow outlet into Beaver River, and the
Winooski appeared to have lost a length in coming down from Beech Hill
Lake. Dory watched the Gildrock, and soon discovered that she was
gaining on him. The other crew had been practising by themselves a good
deal lately, and it was evident that Matt Randolph had made a decided
improvement both in style and power in the work of his crew.
Dory said nothing, and did not attempt to increase the speed of his
boat. At the mouth of the river the Gildrock was half a dozen lengths
ahead of him, and her crew seemed to be exerting themselves to widen the
distance between the two barges. The boys of the leading boat could see
the other all the time, while the Winooskis could not, for no rower was
allowed to look behind him.
"The Gildrock is half a mile ahead of us!" exclaimed Life Windham, the
stroke oarsman of the Winooski; for the other boat had changed her
course to the southward, and a side glance had enabled him to see her.
"Not so bad as that, Life," replied Dory, with a smile.
"Don't let them beat us, Dory," added Ned Bellows, on the next thwart.
"They have been getting ready to whip us," said Dick Short. "They have
been at work by themselves for the last week."
"They have got about all the older and stouter fellows in the school,
and we must expect that they will beat us sometimes," replied Dory
philosophically. "But we have also been in training, and if they beat us
they have got to work for it."
"But they are beating us!" exclaimed Life, as he got another glance at
the Gildrock. "Matt Randolph has been putting in some extra New York
touches, and it is all up with us."
"Not yet," answered Dory quietly. "We have been taking it easy, and they
have been using their muscle. Wait a little."
By this time every boy in the Winooski was aware that the Gildrock was
running away from them, and the fact vexed and annoyed them. If they
were beaten, even in a "scrub race," Dory would lose a portion of his
popularity. The coxswain watched the other boat, but he did nothing to
increase the speed of the Winooski. Some of the boys in the boat began
to grumble, though conversation was not allowed while rowing.
"No talking in the boat, if you please, fellows," the coxswain
interposed, and the grumbling ceased.
Dory could see that the Gildrocks were straining themselves to run away
from the Winooski. The first class fellows were not so far off that he
could not read the expression of their faces, and see the smiles of
satisfaction with which they regarded their advantage. He permitted them
to enjoy their victory, as they evidently regarded it, until they were
at least twenty-five lengths ahead. Matt Randolph frequently looked
behind him to note the position of his rival.
All at once the oars of the Gildrock ceased to move, but every blade was
in proper position. Then came three rousing cheers from her crew, with a
tiger at the end. This was certainly crowing over the victory: The
Winooskis, except the coxswain, were vexed, and even angry. Some of them
began to grumble again; but Dory laughed, and called for silence in the
boat. The crew obeyed the order, for they had come to believe that Dory
knew what he was about "every time."
His crew soon knew what he was about, for he straightened up his wiry
little frame, and then began to sway it back and forward to regulate the
stroke of the rowers. In a few minutes every muscle was strained up to
its utmost tension. The Winooski began to fly through the water. There
was quite a smart sea on the lake, which Dory took into account, and
humored the boat as it met the waves.
The Gildrocks saw what Dory was doing, and Matt set his crew on the
strain again. At the end of a quarter of an hour the Gildrock was less
than a length ahead. The crew of the first class boat were in a terrible
state of excitement. They could see the other boat, and the effect upon
them was bad when the Winooski began to gain on them. The Gildrocks were
demoralized.
In three minutes more the Winooski had passed the other barge.
"Stand by to toss!" said Dory quietly.
The complimentary salute was given, but the coxswain declined to call
for three cheers.