THE BOAT RACE
Phil had pulled an oar with the winning crew the year before, and
was to be stroke oar this year, a position requiring nice judgment
as well as consummate skill. Although he had now been working at the
bank for more than three weeks, the young fellow was in prime physical
condition, and the week’s practice with the crew renewed the hopes of
the ardent admirers of the Riverdale boys.
Eric came down nearly every evening to see them pull the scull over
the smooth stretch of water above the bridge, and he told Phil several
times that he had “laid some pretty stiff wagers” on his crew.
Young Daring did not approve of this, and frankly said so.
“We’ve three new men in our eight,” he said, “and the Bayport crew
is almost entirely new blood. No one can judge our respective merits
till we get together, and while I hope we shall win I would not risk a
dollar on such a doubtful chance.”
Eric was unconvinced, and merely laughed at him; yet Phil felt that he
had done his duty and said all that was required. Thereafter he held
his peace.
The race was held at Bayport this year, which was in that crew’s favor,
although Phil and most of his eight were nearly as familiar with the
Bayport course as with their own. When Saturday arrived there was a
general exodus from Riverdale to the scene of the race.
Judith had engaged a three-seated wagon to convey the Darings and
herself. With all the talk about the race not a word had been said
to Sue about her going to Bayport with them. Silently the “outcast”
listened to the plans for the excursion, believing she was destined to
remain at home. She had a great longing to go, for such diversions were
few in their quiet lives, but by her own act she had withdrawn from the
inner circle and with stolid resolve she determined none should guess
her disappointment or remorse.
There was an early dinner this Saturday noon, and when the wagon drew
up at the door and the Darings were hurrying to get their hats and
wraps, Cousin Judith said to Sue, who sat soberly in a corner:
“Won’t you go with us, dear? There is plenty of room.”
Sue gave a gasp of amazement.
“But, I--I’m out of it, you know, Cousin Judith. I--I’m not one of your
children,” she stammered.
“Come as my guest, then. Do you suppose I have ceased to love you,
Sue? I’m not your Little Mother any more--more’s the pity--but I shall
always remain your affectionate Cousin Judith. It would please me to
have you come with us to-day, and enjoy yourself.”
Sue’s eyes were sparkling. Without a word, except a murmured “thank
you, Cousin Judith!” she rushed for her hat and joined the others in
the wagon.
It was a great day for the Darings and proved a delightful outing,
although alas, the Riverdale crew went down to defeat.
An accident caused it, of course; otherwise, the race was surely
Riverdale’s.
Phil led his crew over the course with masterful generalship, starting
with slow, steady strokes, without regard for the lead of Bayport,
and then gradually increasing the count until near the end Riverdale
overtook their opponents and shot irresistibly into the lead. They
were two boat lengths ahead and still gaining when one of the new men
“caught a crab” and threw the entire crew into confusion. The scull
swung half around and before headway could be recovered Bayport passed
them and won the race.
Riverdale people had been lustily cheering when they saw their boat
surely forging to the front and a certain winner, as they thought; but
now a groan of dismay went up that was drowned by the cheers of the
exultant Bayporters.
Phœbe was nearly ready to cry, while Becky and Don were savage with
grief.
“Never mind, my dears,” said Cousin Judith, cheerfully. “There is no
dishonor in such a defeat and Phil certainly did his part splendidly.”
That was the general verdict, and Riverdale spectators crowded around
Phil and congratulated him on the fine showing he had made.
In a shiny top-buggy Eric Spaythe had sat beside Marion Randolph, at
a point overlooking the entire river. He had proved very agreeable
company up to the finish of the race, laughing and joking in his cheery
way and assuring Marion time and again that Riverdale was sure to win.
At the final catastrophe he seemed overcome by horror. His eyes bulged;
his lips trembled; he fell silent and moody.
“Come; let’s get home!” he suddenly exclaimed, and without awaiting
reply he whipped up the nag and dashed away at a break-neck speed that
made everyone who saw him wonder what was the matter. Marion, greatly
annoyed by this churlish proceeding on the part of her escort, refused
to make any comment. Eric scarcely spoke a pleasant word to her all
the way back to Riverdale. However, as they drove up the street to her
house he suddenly seemed to remember that he had acted like a boor and
said apologetically:
“Don’t think me rude, please. My whole heart was set on Riverdale
winning that race, and I guess my disappointment made me forget myself.
You won’t bear any grudge against me, will you?” he continued, a little
anxiously.
“Most certainly not,” answered Marion coldly. “I thank you for the
courtesy shown me--before you forgot yourself.”
Then she hurried into the house, leaving Eric staring agape and
wondering if he had made a fool of himself and lost more than his bets
on the race.
Cousin Judith did not hurry her brood home, for it was still early.
She carried the Darings to a cool little restaurant where they feasted
on ice cream and cakes to their hearts’ content and soon forgot the
humiliation of their brother’s defeat.
Judith placed little Sue by her side and saw she was as liberally
served as the others. The girl was unusually silent, however, and once
Miss Eliot noticed that her dark eyes were flooded with tears.
On her way home Sue laid her head on the Little Mother’s lap and began
to sob, gently at first but with increasing bitterness, while her
brothers and sisters regarded her with unfeigned amazement.
Judith stroked the soft hair and let the burst of grief exhaust itself.
“You--you’ve been so kind to me,” whispered Sue, raising her
tear-stained face to look appealingly into the gentle countenance above
her, “that I--I--I’m _drea_’fully ’shamed of myself! Don’t you s’pose
you--could--adopt me again?”
“I think so,” said the Little Mother gravely.
The clouds cleared then and Sue was presently smiling again. As soon as
they reached home she marched directly over to the Randolph mansion and
found Doris. When she returned she said shyly, in the presence of the
entire family:
“I’ve ’pologized to Doris an’ told her she isn’t a hypocrite; and
I’m sorry--drea’fully sorry--I disobeyed Cousin Judith and acted so
naughty.”
“Good for you, Puss!” cried Phil, who had just come in. “Why, this
consoles me for the loss of the race!”
Sue beamed with pleasure and Judith gathered the girl in her arms and
kissed her.
“I call you all to witness,” she said, “that this is the child of my
adoption. We won’t need to sign papers this time, because you will all
know that Sue and I belong to each other hereafter and can never be
divorced. Is it not so, my dear?”
“Yes, indeed, Little Mother!” replied Sue, smiling happily.