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The High School Boys' Canoe Club, a fiction by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 18. "Won't Win Against A Mudscow" |
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_ CHAPTER XVIII. "WON'T WIN AGAINST A MUDSCOW"
"By enabling me to advertise a canoe race between high school boys as an attraction to bring added guests to this hotel," the manager explained for himself. "Let me see. This is Thursday. If the race were to be held day after to-morrow---saturday---would that give both crews time enough to get ready?" "Saturday will suit Gridley," Dick answered promptly. "And Preston also," guaranteed Bob Hartwell. "At three in the afternoon on Saturday?" asked Mr. Wright. "Yes, sir," Prescott nodded. "But will you have sufficient time to advertise, Mr. Wright?" "Plenty of time," replied the manager, "if I send my letters away by tonight's mail. I will advertise in a Gridley paper, and also in Preston and Trentville. I will send copy to papers in a few other towns as well, and I will see to it that the railway folks know about it. Fortunately the railway people will attend to their own advertising, as it will give them some chance to bring extra passengers. Now, boys, does either crew wish to draw any expense money to help in preparing for the race?" "Preston High School doesn't want any expense money, thank you, sir," Bob declared quickly. "Our fellows all have abundant funds." "The Gridley High School crew is a lot of near paupers," Dick admitted with smiling candor. "Then you may have-----" "Thank you, Mr. Wright," Prescott went on. "I don't know that we could use money if we had it, but in any case I am certain that we couldn't accept it from the hotel management without risk of sacrificing our standing as amateurs. We might be ruled out as 'professionals' for accepting money for the race." "Pardon me," broke in Mr. Wright, as a bellboy handed him a telegram. As he read the message a smile appeared on his face. "Perhaps this will put a different aspect on the matter," beamed the hotel manager. "This telegram is from Mr. Howgate, and says:" _"'Am mailing you check for forty dollars. Please allow Prescott, Captain Gridley High School Canoe Club, to draw on you for that amount, for boat uniforms and other expenses. Money voted by Council from High School Athletic fund.'"_ "That's thoughtful," murmured young Prescott, wholly taken aback. "However, I don't believe we shall need the money." "You ought to have some sort of uniform," suggested Hartwell. "We Preston chaps have canoe uniforms." "We can paddle just as well without special uniforms," smiled Dick, "But how would it look for good old Gridley High School?" hinted Bob generously. "Remember, in appearance, as well as in performance, you have the prestige and honor of your school to consider." "I think you will do well to accept the money and get uniforms," Mr. Wright declared thoughtfully. "You will have to telegraph for them in order to have them here by Saturday." "I have the A.B. Lollard catalogue up in my room," suggested Hartwell "I'll run up and get it, and you fellows can look it through and make a quick decision." "When you have the choice of uniforms made," said Mr. Wright, "write your telegram and bring it to me to sign. The Lollard people know me, and will honor my order." Now that matters had been arranged so as to be strictly within amateur usages, Dick, Dave and the others found that they had a new cause for interest as they glanced through the bewildering display of uniforms offered in the catalogue. When the choice had been made Dick turned to young Holmes to say: "Greg, run down to the landing to relieve Tom, and ask him to hurry up here. We want him, too, to approve our selection or to state his disapproval." Reade arrived with a breathlessness that testified to his having run all the way. Needless to say, he heartily agreed with his chums as to the uniform selected by them. The uniform chosen was not expensive. It consisted of sleeveless cotton shirts, white cotton trousers, knee-length, and with a red stripe down the sides, and thin, light boating shoes. The total cost, per boy, was three dollars and eighty-three cents. Certainly not an expensive canoeing uniform! There would be some express charges to pay in addition. "You'll have about fifteen dollars left for anything else that you may need," suggested Mr. Wright. "Yes; but we don't wish to spend it," Dick replied. "It is only the thought of the Gridley High School that makes us decide on any uniform at all." "You couldn't have been more modest," smiled Bob Hartwell, as he thought of the more expensive uniforms of his own crew. The telegram was prepared. Mr. Wright signed it and sent it away. Then he hastened to his office to prepare his own advertising matter. As the Gridley girls were nowhere to be seen about the grounds, Dick did not inquire for them. Instead he and his chums hurried back to the lake, where they put in another hour in hard practice. Prescott kept his crew out on the lake, in about the middle, where his low---spoken directions could not be heard from the shore. "Are we going to win, now?" asked Dan Dalzell. "How can we help it, when we are to wear such dazzling uniforms?" queried Reade. "We've got to do a lot of hard work tomorrow, and on Saturday morning," Dave added. "I doubt if we yet paddle anywhere near the Preston High School performance." "We'll work hard to-morrow," Dick agreed, "but after that we will have to be satisfied with what we've done. Saturday morning we don't want to do any hard work. Just enough exercise to keep our muscles supple for the real fray of the afternoon." "We ought to stay out longer now," urged Hazelton. "Do you fellows think so?" asked Dick thoughtfully. "It seems to me that we've done enough hard canoe work for to-day. We don't want to go stale from too much training." "But we can't---we mustn't lose the race on Saturday," almost groaned Dave Darrin. "Then we'll do better not to overtrain," said Dick quietly. "Unless I hear a big kick I'm going to turn the canoe toward our camp." There was no objection, though some of the members of Dick & Co. frowned slightly. They had great confidence in Dick's judgment, yet he seemed to them over cautious in training. "I wish it were Saturday night," murmured Tom Reade, lying on the grass full length, after they had landed. "So that you'd know how it feels to be licked and to have your school licked, too?" inquired Danny Grin. "Stop that talk!" ordered Tom gruffly. "We're not going to be beaten. We'd hardly dare show our faces again in Gridley if Preston High School took us into camp." "Then how will the Preston fellows feel if we distance 'em?" Greg inquired. "Oh, it won't matter as much over at Preston," Tom replied coolly. "Preston hasn't such a big reputation for winning athletic events as Gridley has." "The more I think of it," muttered Dave, "the more I marvel at our cheek. We are barely more than freshmen. As yet we've entered the sophomore class only by promotion. Yet we get away from home and immediately start in to fight under the Gridley colors, just as though we were real juniors or seniors! My, but I'll hate myself if we get walloped Saturday afternoon!" "We'd all dislike ourselves," smiled Dick Prescott calmly. "That is why we haven't any thought of allowing ourselves to be beaten, either by Preston or Trentville." "I wonder if Trentville is as good as Preston?" asked Tom curiously. "We can't tell until we see them work," suggested Greg. "Who's going to eat, and when?" asked Dan. That started the crowd to making preparations for the camp supper. It was prepared in good time, and six healthy boys sat down to enjoy it. After that came a period of blissful idleness. Then, more or less reluctantly, the youngsters set about washing the dishes and setting the camp straight in general. "Better throw some wood on the fire; it's getting pretty dark," suggested Dick. "I'll get the lantern and light it." Gr-r-r-r-r! came the voice of Towser, in the near distance. It was followed by barks and yelps, all in the voice of Hazelton's bull-dog. "What trouble has the pup gotten into?" demanded Harry, throwing an armful of wood on the campfire, then wheeling sharply. Gr-r-r-r! Wow-wow! Woof! sounded closer at hand, accompanied by considerable noise in the underbrush. "That pup's in trouble," declared Tom sagely. "Come along, fellows! Bring the lantern, Dick!" Six boys, headed by Dick with the lantern, went to meet the bull-dog. They came upon Towser, growling in a most excited manner, threshing something about him in the bushes as he came toward them. "Hold still, boy!" commanded Harry. "What is it, old chap?" Then he came upon the dog. In the darkness it was not easy to make out what ailed Towser. But Prescott came closer to the dog with the lantern. "Towser has his foot caught in a steel trap. I'm afraid his leg is broken," quivered Hazelton, as he threw himself on the ground beside his pet. "Hold still, boy! Let me take it off of you." The dog permitted himself to be held while Tom Reade pried open the jaws of the steel fox trap, the chain to which the pup had dragged over the ground. "That's a queer accident," commented Greg Holmes. "Accident?" flamed Harry. "This thing is no accident. It was done on purpose, and I wouldn't need but one guess to name the two-legged cur that did this!" All of the boys understood at once that Hazelton was accusing Fred Ripley of setting the trap. Towser, as soon as released, limped a little, but proved that his leg was not broken, though it had been cut in the trap. "Woof!" he exploded angrily, as soon as he found that he could run about on his injured leg. Then, showing his teeth, he growled menacingly and bounded through the woods, Dick & Co. following pell-mell. "Towser knows that his enemy is still near!" called Harry exultantly. "Come on, fellows! We'll catch that sneak!" A bull-dog's strong point is not his scent. He led the boys to the roadway, then halted, growling, plainly at fault. Perched up in a tree not fifty yards away, well hidden by the foliage, were Fred Ripley and another youth. For a few moments they listened breathlessly to the pursuit, then appeared to feel more at their ease. "You didn't work the trap trick quite right," whispered Fred to the youth in overalls beside him. "Better luck next time," whispered back the stranger. "But no matter. I see how we can fix the canoe so that it couldn't win a race against a mudscow!" _ |
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