IN CAMP ON THE MOHUNK
On the day following the exciting meeting in the schoolhouse, the
members of the boat club connected with Riverport school were in camp
some miles up the Mohunk river, wishing to practice in their new shell,
where curious eyes might not watch them.
It was expected that they would stay several days in camp; so tents had
been taken along, as well as all sorts of supplies calculated to help
the cooks in their work.
The rebellion of Buck Lemington had not bothered Brad and his friends
very much. True, several of their best scullers had been lost by the
mutiny; but some of the more promising substitutes were moved up into
regular positions, and others taken on to fill the places thus vacated;
for there was no lack of candidates among the boys of Riverport school.
Ever since Buck had let out his secret the talk had been about the
possibility of the rival crew sending them a challenge, and an actual
race taking place somewhere near Riverport, with hundreds of cheering
people to watch the contest.
It thrilled the boys just to talk about such a happening.
"Don't get too gay, fellows," remarked a tall lad, whose name was
Colon, and who had always been a good friend of Fred Fenton, from the
day the latter first came to town. "Buck Lemington is a big bag of wind
when it comes to bragging about what he's going to do. I think I can
see him buying that shell over at Grafton, that Colonel Simms owns. His
boy who went to college rowed in her, you know. There isn't money
enough in Riverport to buy that boat."
"Oh! I don't know," broke in Dave Hanshaw, who had always been more or
less of a crack athlete on Riverport's teams; "I heard my father saying
only last night that the old Colonel had lost all his money, and was
selling out over in Grafton. So you see, perhaps he might be willing to
let that pet boat, in which his son rowed to victory, go for a certain
sum."
"And Buck," observed Colon, "must have got wind of it a while back. Oh!
he's a cute one, all right. He knows how to feather his nest. When he
came to count noses he understood that there wasn't a show for him to
be elected cox. in our club; so he gets ready to organize a little one
on his own account. Wise old Buck, he knows which side his bread is
buttered."
"Hey! look who's coming on his wheel over yonder!" called out Dick
Hendricks.
"Who is it?"
"Why, it looks like Sandy Richards. But what can he want up here, when
they all understood we didn't expect to have visitors?" Corney Shays
observed.
Some of the boys began to show signs of sudden nervousness. They were
not used to being away overnight from home, and could immediately
picture all sorts of things as having happened since their departure
very early that morning. Possibly to some of them it already seemed as
though they had been off for a week.
The younger boy on the wheel soon arrived at a point close to the camp.
Abandoning his bicycle at the roadside he climbed the fence, crossed
the field, and came to the fringe of timber.
"Who's it for, Sandy?" asked Brad; and possibly there was just a
trifling tremor in his own voice, though he tried to hide it in a
fashion.
"Got your name on it, Brad; and she's addressed to the Coxswain of the
Riverport Boat Club," answered the boy, promptly; looking around him
curiously at the camp, where he would very naturally have liked to
remain, simply because it was forbidden territory.
"A challenge, that's what!" yelled Bristles.
"Buck's made good already, just think of it!" cried Corney Shays,
throwing up his cap, and then jumping on it when it landed; a habit he
had of working off any excitement.
All eyes were turned on Brad as he tore off the end of the envelope.
They saw his eyebrows go up in a manner to indicate surprise; and there
also came a look of considerable satisfaction upon his honest face.
"Where'd you get this, Sandy?" he demanded, turning to the bicycle
rider.
"Why, you see, Felix Wagner brought it over; and they wouldn't think of
letting him come along up here, so I was sent with it," the boy
replied, promptly.
"Felix Wagner!" ejaculated Sid Wells; "say, has Buck had to go and
borrow a Mechanicsburg fellow to fill out his eight?"
"Hold on," interrupted Brad; "don't jump at things that way, Sid. This
isn't a challenge from Buck at all. It's from Mechanicsburg!"
"What's that?" shouted Colon; "are you telling me they've gone and got
a boat up at that town, and want to race us for the championship of the
Mohunk? That _would_ be the best news ever, fellows!"
"That's just what's happened," Brad went on. "This paper is signed by
Dub Jasper, who used to pitch for their baseball club, you remember
fellows. Well, he's the coxswain of the Mechanicsburg Boat Club crew.
He says they've got a shell on the way, and he hereby challenges us to
a match, to be rowed within a month from date, and according to regular
rules, the distance being marked off between their town and ours, in
just what happens to be the best water at the time. How about that?"
"Accept it, Brad!" several shouted, in great excitement.
"Say, things in the boating line are picking up ground here," Corney
Shays cried, laughingly. "Three shells on the river, to make things
lively. If this keeps on the Mohunk will become the most famous boat
course in this part of the country."
As a unanimous vote to accept the challenge followed, Brad retired to
his tent, where he wrote out a reply to the proposal made by
Mechanicsburg; details to be decided later on. Sandy was accordingly
dispatched with this missive, and requested to drop in again after he
had seen the rival young athletes of the neighboring town.
When Sandy returned, showing by the signs that he had made a swift
passage from Mechanicsburg, some miles down the river, all the boys
crowded around to ask him questions.
"Oh! they're all worked up over there about it," replied the panting
boy. "Seems like every feller in the old town is wild with the news
that they're a-goin' to have a boat like ours, a present from the big
manufacturer, Mr. Gobbler; and they all say they expect to lick the
stuffing out of poor old Riverport this time, because the boys in their
town have always been more like water ducks than we have, rowing boats,
skating, making ice-boats, and all such things."
"They're welcome to a think that way," laughed Corney Shays, apparently
delighted with the prospect; "but perhaps we Riverport boys aren't so
sleepy after all. We're just going to surprise 'em some; eh, fellers?"
Judging from the shouts that broke out, all of them believed the same
as the confident Corney. Sandy was soon sent back to the home town to
report that the members of the boat club were nicely fixed in camp, and
that none of their folks need worry a minute about them.
So evening found them, with the several appointed cooks busily engaged
in their work preparing supper. It was pronounced a fine meal, and as
every lad had brought his vacation appetite along with him, the inroad
they made upon the stock of provisions gave small hope that there would
be anything to take back, when the little camping and training trip was
over.
Afterwards they sat around the blazing logs, for the evening had turned
a bit cool, and it was pleasant near a cheerful camp fire. The
conversation changed from one thing to another; but always seemed to
return again to the exciting event of that day--when the challenge was
received from Mechanicsburg.
In imagination some of the young oarsmen doubtless already saw the
scene that would take place upon the banks of the Mohunk when the rival
towns cheered their pet crews on to victory, or defeat.
Into the midst of all this good-natured chaffing and chattering,
Bristles Carpenter suddenly burst, with his hair more on end than ever,
it seemed, and his face white with apprehension.
"Hey! wake up, fellers!" he cried. "There's some sneak down near our
boat, and just as like as not he's been trying to cut a hole in her, so
we can't row in any race! I saw him creeping around, when I stepped out
just now!"