Chapter 4

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!"