THE CHESTERFIELDS SURRENDER THEIR BANNERS.
Commodore Mad Twinker did not seem to have much confidence in the
position he had taken. He felt that he had been beaten in the argument,
but in the face of his crew he could not abandon the ground he had
taken. Of course he knew that the Chesterfields had no right to retain
the garments they had brought from the shore; but it seemed to be quite
impossible to "give in" to the Beech Hill party, and acknowledge that it
was wrong to apply epithets to them.
"The Gildrock is coming, Dory," said Life Windham, in a low tone, for
the coxswain had not observed the approach of his consort.
Dory cast a glance in the direction from which the other barge was
coming. She had apparently just made her way out of Sandy Beach Cove,
and the crew were pulling a quick stroke, as though they thought
something was the matter with the Winooski. The plucky coxswain was not
particularly pleased at the prospect of a re-enforcement; for, though
Matt Randolph was a splendid fellow, he feared that he might be more
inclined to fight than to compromise.
But if Dory intended to recover the clothing of his crew, the present
situation looked more like a fight than a compromise. The Chesterfields
refused to admit that the reproachful epithets were insulting, and
demanded an apology for his neglect to answer the challenge to race with
them. The coxswain, fearful that he might appear to be too stiff, went
over the matter again.
"When we came near you we gave you a complimentary salute," added Dory.
"A complimentary salute!" exclaimed Mad Twinker. "When was that, and
what was it?"
"We tossed oars."
"Tossed oars? Where did you toss them?" asked the commodore; and it was
plain enough now that the Chesterfields did not understand the
manoeuvre.
"We raised them to a perpendicular; and this is the highest honor one
boat can pay to another. We should not have tossed oars to you if we had
intended to insult you," replied Dory with spirit.
"Do you call that showing off a complimentary salute?" demanded Mad,
with a sneer. "It's no use to talk any more about it: when you make the
apology for insulting us we will give up the clothes."
The crews of both the Chesterfield boats applauded. The wind appeared to
be freshening, or it had driven the boats farther out into the lake,
where they felt it more. At any rate Mad's last remark indicated a
desire to end the conference on the waves.
"I hope there will be no trouble," said Dory, as he glanced at the
Gildrock again, though she was still a mile from the scene.
"There will be no talk at any rate," replied Mad. "We are going ashore
now, and we will see you on the land if you like."
"You will not go ashore until you have given up those clothes," added
Dory firmly.
"I'm not going to fool with you, as Wash did, and if you don't get out
of our way we will sink you!" exclaimed the new commodore.
"I think you will have to understand a little more about handling a boat
than you do now, before you can do that," replied Dory quietly, as he
backed the Winooski a little way from the Racer.
With some difficulty Mad got his boat about so that it was headed to
the shore, and the Dasher, with Jeff Monroe acting as coxswain, was
trying to follow her example. The waves were very rude, and it looked as
though the latter would be swamped before she got about. As soon as Dory
saw that the Dasher had accomplished the feat, he repeated his former
manoeuvre, shoving the bow of the barge entirely around, in spite of all
the efforts of her crew to prevent it.
Mad Twinker ordered his oarsmen to beat off the assailants with their
oars; but the moment the boat got into the trough of the sea, the bow
oarsmen were utterly unable to stand up. In swinging around, the
Winooski brought up against the side of the Racer, and two of the
latter's oars were snapped in twain in the collision. But Dory drew back
before any further damage was done, though the Chesterfield boat had
only seven oars left.
By this time the Racer had nearly come about, and Dory gave her a shove
which sent her back to her former position in the trough of the sea. Mad
Twinker was downright mad in fact, as well as in name, when he found
himself beaten. But the Winooski kept out of his reach, and he was
utterly powerless. Her coxswain did not have the least difficulty in
swinging her around as he wished, in the smart sea.
The wind was blowing the boats farther out into the lake every moment,
and the white-caps had a terrific aspect to the inexperienced boatmen.
Mad brought his barge about again. Placing one of his oarless crew at
the tiller lines, he crawled forward himself, and took a position in the
bow. Arming himself with the boathook he directed his rowers to give
way.
This time Dory did not wait till the Racer was headed to the shore, but
darted upon her just as she came out of the trough of the sea. He called
to Thad Glovering to boat his oar, and look out for his head, for Mad
evidently intended to hit anyone who came within reach of his weapon.
"Oars!" shouted Dory with energy. "Stern all!"
But in spite of his care he struck the Racer harder than he intended,
and a lively snapping of cedar boards was heard. The sound created a
panic among the crew; they all stopped rowing, and looked behind them to
see what had happened. About three feet of the bow of the boat was stove
in, and the water was pouring in through the break.
"There! Do you see what you have done?" yelled Mad Twinker, appalled at
the disaster to the Dasher.
"Will you give up those clothes, or will you take another rap?" called
Dory sharply.
"Another rap! Do you mean to drown us all?" cried Mad.
"I mean to have our clothes!" answered Dory.
"Let them have the clothes!" yelled one of the terrified crew.
"Let them have them! We can't do anything more," added another.
Mad said nothing more, but he picked up such of the clothes as were
within his reach, and held them out in the direction of the Winooski.
His crew followed his example, and Dory ran the barge near enough to
receive them.
"That's all there are in this boat," said Mad Twinker.
"If you all move a little farther aft, the water won't run into your
boat," said Dory in a quiet tone. "Here are five oars that belong to
your boats. I have no further business with you to-day, unless we find
some of our clothes are missing; and we wish you good evening."
"We shall have further business with you, and you won't see the end of
this affair for one while," growled Mad Twinker, as he crawled to the
stern-sheets of his barge.
While this scene was transpiring, the Dasher had succeeded in getting
about, and her crew were pulling for the shore, though they lay upon
their oars when they saw the catastrophe to her consort. Dory followed
the other barge without any delay, and was soon in position to "ram" the
bow, as he had that of the Racer; but the Dashers decided not to be
wrecked, as their consort had been. Jeff Monroe shouted that they would
give up the clothes and they were delivered. The Winooski went to the
shore, and the crew clothed themselves. None of the clothes were
missing, and the coxswain was glad he had no further demand to make upon
the Chesterfields. Before the boys were half clothed the Gildrock joined
them.
"What in the world have you fellows been about?" asked Matt Randolph.
"We thought you were in a row out there with the Chesterfields, and we
were hurrying up to help you out."
"We were in a row, and we have smashed in the bow of one of their
boats," replied Dory. "Our fellows have behaved first-rate, and I think
we have come out of the scrape with clean hands."
"Not if you have smashed one of their boats," added Matt seriously.
"Captain Gildrock must settle that question; and I suppose Colonel
Buckmill will have something to say about it," answered Dory, as he
proceeded to relate in detail what had happened at Sandy Beach.
The event was discussed with no little excitement for a considerable
time. Beech Hill was very indignant at the conduct of the Chesterfields,
and heartily delighted that they had been beaten in the end. But all
felt, as Mad Twinker had suggested, that they had not seen the end of
the affair yet, and it was voted that a state of war existed between the
two institutions on opposite sides of the lake; and perhaps it was a
happy circumstance that four miles of fresh water lay between them.
"I say, Dory, I don't quite understand how it was that you beat us so
awfully in that little scrub race we had," said the coxswain of the
Gildrock. "I was sure we could whip you every time when we came out of
the river."
"I knew that you had been giving your crew a little private training,"
replied Dory, laughing, as they walked down to the barges. "I know just
why you were beaten; and I think you had better wait till you get out of
the woods before you do any crowing next time. The three cheers you gave
were rather cutting to our fellows."
"I was confident we could pass you every time; and your crew were taking
it very easy. We gave the cheers to stir you up, and give us a chance to
beat you when you were doing your best," Matt explained. "But how did
you give us such an awful waxing?"
"Simply by minding our own business: that's all I know about it. Our
fellows row first-rate, and they are in splendid discipline. Your crew
got demoralized when they saw us gaining on them, and they couldn't do
anything more. It was as easy to beat them then as it is to go to sleep
when you can't keep awake."
Matt did not understand the cause of his defeat much better than before.
He said he had been training his crew, and trying to find out what the
matter was.
The barges returned to Beech Hill, and after they were secured, there
was nothing talked about but the encounter with the Chesterfields. As in
duty bound, Dory reported the affair, with full details, to the
principal.
"I am afraid this is rather serious business, Dory," said Captain
Gildrock. "It looks like a standing quarrel between our school and the
Institute, and it may lead to disagreeable consequences. Of course the
students on the other side will have their own story to tell, and
probably I shall hear from Colonel Buckmill, who will claim damages for
the injury done the barge."
"We had to recover our clothes, or come home without our shirts,"
pleaded Dory.
"I have no doubt you have told the story correctly as you understand it,
but almost always there are two sides to any story. You appear to have
acted with prudence and forbearance, and I have no fault to find with
you," added Captain Gildrock. "We will wait and see what comes of the
affair."
It may as well be said here that nothing came of it, and Colonel
Buckmill was not informed in regard to the collision. The Racer was
rowed to Westport that evening, and the next morning she had been
repaired, and was in as good condition as ever. But the Chesterfields
nursed their wrath, and vowed vengeance for the humiliation to which
they had been subjected.