Harry Watson's High School Days; Or, The Rivals of Rivertown

CHAPTER XXIII--A MILE A MINUTE SPIN

Chapter 234,421 wordsPublic domain

"Good morning, Mrs. Watson; is Harry at home?"

Saturday had come, with clear skies, and a cold, crisp air that gave promise of a fine day's sport on the ice for Rivertown's young people. It was Paul Martin who had knocked at the door of the widow's house, and greeted her with his cheery smile when she admitted him.

"Good morning, Paul!" replied the good woman, the look of distress on her face giving way for a moment to one of pleasure at seeing this loyal friend of her nephew. "Yes, he is in his den, busy with something. The poor boy seldom goes out these days; and I'm afraid the constant grieving will tell on his health."

"That is just why I've come around, ma'am, to try and influence Harry to take a spin with me on my iceboat," Paul continued, eagerly. "You see, we were just going to have a run before, when Pud Snooks interrupted us with that unpleasant bit of news; and Harry backed out. We lost all interest in the sport soon afterward, and I've really had little heart for it since."

"It was good of you to think of your friend in this way, Paul," the widow said, laying a hand on the lad's shoulder, and looking affectionately into his manly face. "And depend on it, Harry is worthy of all your regard. I know something about boys, even though I was never blessed with one myself; and if ever there lived a clean, brave and loyal fellow, Harry is one. And Paul, he must go off with you to get some fresh air. This staying in, and thinking of all his troubles, is not the best thing for even his strong nature."

"Then please back me up," said Paul, "in case he tries to beg off. I'm going to insist; and I think I know how to reach Harry's weak spot. I'll give him to understand that if he refuses, it's going to spoil all my Saturday morning sport. Harry will make sacrifices for a chum that he would never think of doing for himself. And now I'll push in on him, if you don't mind."

As he opened the door of Harry's little den, where the boy did his studying, and kept such traps as boys usually accumulate, he found the object of his solicitude bending over a table, and deep in some book.

"Hello! here, old book-worm, this is no morning to bury yourself here indoors like a hermit!" cried Paul, as he burst in on his chum like a breath of the crisp winter air.

Harry looked up, and his face was immediately wreathed in a smile. The very presence of such a fine, healthy fellow like Paul was enough in itself to chase away the blues. He sprang to his feet, and grasped the hand that was thrust out toward him, wringing it with boyish ardor. For deep down in his heart he knew full well that Paul was almost as much concerned over the trouble that had of late befallen him, as he could be himself.

"Glad to see you, Paul!" he exclaimed. "Yes, it does look like a great day for a Saturday; and I guess lots of fellows will be glad. The ice must be fine after that little thaw, and hard freeze. I haven't been down to the river you know, of late. I just seem to feel that I ought to keep away from my friends, and save them from embarrassment."

If there was a trace of bitterness in Harry's voice, Paul did not notice it. He did catch the tremor though, that told of a sore heart; and impulsively he again squeezed the hand of his chum.

"That's just what brought me here right now," he observed, seriously. "You must get out more, Harry. You know yourself that all this brooding over your affairs isn't going to do you a bit of good. Things are going to come out all right yet; but it may take some time. Meanwhile it's foolish of you to shun your best friends, and keep indoors. I've come to carry you off to the river with me, d'ye hear?"

Harry sighed, and cast a look of sincere affection on this staunch friend. They had been utter strangers only a few months back; and yet so strong had the ties become that bound them together, that he fancied he cared as much for Paul as he could have done for a brother.

"Thank you, Paul," he said, slowly. "I'd like to go first-rate; but I've made up my mind to keep clear of all the high school young people until this mystery is solved, and I can look them in the face without a blush. Understand, I have the utmost faith in my father; and I _know_ he must be innocent of the charge brought against him; but so far old Jed has not sent any cheering word; and I must wait."

"But I say again, that's no reason for you to keep on hurting your health," Paul insisted. "Even your Aunt Mary is getting anxious about you; and Harry, she's been so good to you, don't you think it is a little cruel to add to her burden in any way?"

Harry sighed again, and looked undecided.

"Yes, Aunt Mary is as good as gold," he observed. "And I certainly wouldn't want to cause her any unnecessary pain; but Paul, somehow I haven't the heart to do the things I used to. I feel a terrible weight in here,"--putting his hand on his chest as he spoke--"that hurts. In my present condition I'd only be a drawback to any crowd of merry boys and girls; and so I stay away."

Perhaps Paul could understand more than Harry gave him credit for. Perhaps he guessed that it was partly the coolness of one particular girl that helped give his chum this heavy feeling in the region of his heart. For he knew how much Harry had come to care for Viola; and it was difficult for him to understand just why she should take up again with Elmer Craven, whom she had once cut dead.

"All right," he said cheerily; "for once, then, you've just got to put that idea out of your head, and come along with me, Harry. Your aunt says you must, and insists that I carry you off to get a few hours of bracing air. And yet, if you'd rather stay here in your den to being in my company, why----"

"Oh! you know better than that, Paul!" cried the other lad eagerly, as he looked into the face of his friend. "I've enjoyed many happy hours in your company; and if it wasn't for this unfortunate business----"

"That's enough, Harry," and Paul in turn broke in on what the forlorn boy was trying to say in a trembling voice; "you've just got to come along now, or else all my plans for the morning will be broken up. I'd arranged for the two of us, no others, mind, to take my new iceboat, _Lightning_, and have a great spin far up the river. The ice couldn't be beat; and I'm determined that it's just got to be _you_ with me, or no one. That's flat. Now, what do you say?"

Harry smiled with pleasure. It was almost worth suffering all that he had endured in these last few unhappy days, just to learn what a true friend meant.

"Well, you put it up to me in a way that knocks out all my argument," he said.

"Then you'll come with me?" demanded Paul, eagerly.

"Sure I will, and mighty glad of the chance," Harry replied, as he started to look for his cap, and his warm sweater to go under his coat; for he knew that a long ride on an iceboat, going a mile a minute more than likely, meant chilled bodies, unless care was taken to supply warm clothing.

Once he had decided on his course, Harry seemed somewhat like his old self. Mrs. Watson, as they passed through the outer room, smiled, and nodded to Paul.

"I'm glad to see you managed to coax him to go, Paul," she remarked; and both lads waved her good-bye as they left the door, walking briskly down the street of Rivertown.

Paul's father had a boat-house on the bank of the river just outside the town limits, where in Summer the boys often gathered in order to enjoy the sports of the season. There was a new shed attached to this, in which Paul kept the iceboat he had had built recently, but which had as yet hardly been tried out.

In a short time the two lads were busily engaged getting the frail craft out of its quarters, and down on the ice. The mast had to be stepped every time Paul wished to make use of the flier; since the shed was too low to admit of its being stored as it stood. But this proved a job of small moment.

"I guess you know a heap about these kind of boats, Harry?" remarked the owner of the _Lightning_, as he watched the deft manner in which his new chum handled the various ropes connected with the up-to-date craft built for ice use.

At that Harry laughed, the first little burst of merriment that had escaped his lips for days; and which made his friend feel that he had done well to coax the grieving lad outdoors, where he could get the invigorating influence of the ozone to be found in the crisp wintry air.

"Oh! yes, I suppose I might say I have, without seeming to boast," he answered, as he bent down to make sure that everything was adjusted, and the wire stay that held the mast in place as taut as the turnbuckle could make it. "We used to have a boat down at Lawrenceburgh, and somehow they got to making me the skipper; last winter we won every race we entered for. But Paul, that boat wasn't in the same class as this new one you've got, I tell you that."

"Then you think the _Lightning_ is apt to go some?" inquired the owner, eagerly.

"Do I?" echoed Harry, quickly. "Unless I'm away off in my judgment, she's bound to beat everything along the river. I never saw such fine lines; and best of all, I don't think the builder has sacrificed anything in the way of staunchness to speed. Mark my word, Paul, she's going to turn out a crackerjack!"

"I'm mighty glad to hear that, Harry!" declared Paul, "for a good many reasons. A fellow likes to have a clipper boat, you know, one that isn't going to take dust from any other chap's racer. And then, it would just give me heaps of fun if I could leave the old _Glider_ far back in the lurch."

"That's Elmer's iceboat, isn't it?" asked Harry.

"Sure. He hasn't had it out this winter, I understand, because for two years now it's just run away from everything there was; and Elmer said he was tired of making circles around the rest of us. But three times now he's asked me when I expected to get my new boat running; and as much as told me he was waiting to add it to the has-beens he's beaten."

"Well, don't you believe he's going to have an easy job walking away from this dandy thing on runners," Harry observed. "I'm ready to say that you've got the very last word in iceboats here in the _Lightning_. And before another hour has passed you'll feel that you made no mistake when you gave her that name. Now, if you're ready, let's make a start."

Harry was anxious to be off. He had noticed that several boys and girls were heading toward them, having skated up from below. And in his present state of mind he would rather avoid meeting any of his school companions if it could be arranged.

"How about the wind?" asked Paul, as they started to take their places on the thin but strong planks of the iceboat, which had been padded with folded blankets, so as to make it more comfortable for those who had to stretch out at full length while managing the running craft.

"It seems to be everything we could want this morning," Harry replied. "In fact, I don't think there ever was a day here on the Conoque River better fitted for a try-out of a new iceboat than this same Saturday morning. And I'm glad now that I came with you, Paul."

"Bully for you, Harry! That's all I wanted to hear. And now, let's cut loose before all those fellows get in our way."

Longback, Socker Gales, and Misery Jones were among those coming full tilt for the spot where they had discovered the new boat on the river's edge.

They gave vent to various whoops and cries when they saw that Paul and Harry were starting off without waiting for their arrival.

"Hi! aint you goin' to let us have a look-in at the new boat, before you smash her with that Jonah aboard?"

"Listen, Paul! Just you keep right on up the river, and my word for it you'll get yours before you come back!"

"Wow! look at her go, would you? Say, fellers, she's all to the mustard, you c'n tell me what you please about the _Glider_. Paul knew what he was doing when he gave the order for that dandy contraption. Gee! don't I wish I was on her right now!"

These last words just barely reached the ears of the two who lay flattened out on the delicate flooring of the ice yacht. Harry heard his chum chuckling, as if somehow the last remark had given him a good feeling.

The skaters started after them, but were speedily left far behind, and presently gave the chase up as useless. And now the whole river lay before the two iceboat chums, with not a single person to interfere with their sport; since it was as a rule farming country above Rivertown, on both sides of the watercourse.

Few rivers offered better fields for this sport than the Conoque. While not of any great depth, it was as a rule quite wide; and in places presented a magnificent spread of smooth, clear ice, over which the sharp runners glided like magic, as the favoring breeze filled their sail, and urged them on at tremendous speed.

Then again, once in a while they would come to a neck where the going was quite different, since the ice was rougher, and they had to look out for airholes. In the Summer season, when the water was lower, these places were called the "rips"; being in reality small rapids, where the water rushed with noisy volume, and the fishing was considered prime.

"Well, what d'ye think of that?" called out Paul, after they had been booming along in this manner for a little while, passing a couple of the narrow places, where considerable care had to be exercised to avoid trouble.

"Splendid! Never went like this before! You've got a wonder here, Paul, and don't you forget it," answered Harry, whose face was now rosy with the action of the keen wind and the cold air; while his eyes sparkled much as they had been wont to do before this trouble came upon him, to crush his young spirits so completely.

"That pleases me a whole lot, Harry," laughed the owner of the craft. "And say, I've been watching the way you handle that tiller. Elmer Craven boasts of being the best iceboat sailor on the river; but I'm ready to put you up against him any old day. Why, you manage things so that she seems to be next door to human. No matter what sort of wind strikes us, you've got a way of setting her with it, that just suits every time. If this boat's a wonder, Harry, you're the fellow that can get every ounce of speed out of her."

"Here, that will do for you, Paul," answered Harry; though naturally the words of genuine praise made him feel happy, as he had been up against so many hard knocks lately, at the hands of those who bore him so much ill will. "I'd just like to try her against some other boat of the same class. That's the only way to get a pointer on her speed and cleverness, you know."

"Perhaps we may, and this very morning," remarked Paul, mysteriously, but with a grin accompanying the words.

"What makes you say that?" demanded his companion, who had to keep his eyes on the alert pretty much all the time, since a flaw of wind might swoop down on them at any second, and if he failed to be quick with the rudder, in order to ease up on the sudden strain, an upset was likely to follow.

"Didn't you hear what Misery Jones shouted after us?" Paul went on, answering one question, Yankee fashion, by asking another.

"Was it Misery who called out for you to listen; and then said something about you 'getting yours' if you kept on up the river?" Harry continued.

"Sure, that was Misery. He's never so happy as when acting as a prophet, and predicting all sorts of trouble ahead for other people. That's why the boys call him Misery; he sees all kinds of accidents looming up, even if they hardly ever come along. But Harry, I don't think the fellow had any accident in store for us that time, when he said I would get mine up here to-day."

"Then what did he have in mind?" asked Harry, his curiosity aroused.

"I've been thinking it over," Paul went on, "and decided that Misery must know Elmer is out this morning with his _Glider_; and somewhere up-river way. What he meant was that if we happened to run across his hawser, I would find my new iceboat as badly left in the lurch as my old one was last year."

"Perhaps," laughed the one who handled the tiller so dexterously; "all things are possible, you know, Paul; but I wouldn't worry over that, if I were you. Just let Elmer show up, and we'll see what the _Lightning_ was built for."

"There's a bunch of fellows coming down the river," said Paul, a minute later. "They live some miles up at a village called Rushville. Several of our high school scholars come down from there every day on the train, you know. I was going to say that if we could shut off some of our tremendous speed, and draw in closer to them, I might find out whether Elmer really did go up-river."

"All right," responded Harry, readily; "that's easy enough done."

He manipulated the tiller, and watched the way the wind spilled out of the big sail as he ran partly across the ice field, heading so as to intercept the skaters. These boys, seeing that those on the fine new iceboat wished to speak with them, only too gladly came to a standstill, and watched the clever way in which Harry managed to bring his craft up in the teeth of the wind close beside them.

"Hello! Paul, that your new boat?" cried one of the up-river fellows, as he advanced to get a closer look at the now still _Lightning_. "Well, I must say she's got lines to go some, and then not half try. Give you my word I never saw such a trim and dandy iceboat; and I wish I had a chance to take a spin on her with you."

"Perhaps you may, some of these fine days, Hank," remarked Paul with a grin; for he had always been friendly with the Rushville student at school. "Just now we're out on the warpath, looking for scalps, you see, and want to be on the fly."

The three boys looked at each other as though hardly catching the true meaning of what Paul said. But a moment later Hank laughed aloud as the significance of the words appealed to him.

"Ho! I get it all right now, Paul!" he exclaimed, nodding his head while speaking. "You want to find something to whack your new boat up against, eh? Well, what's the matter with the _Glider_? Elmer didn't do a thing to you last winter, if I remember right; and the spirit of revenge must be rankling in your heart. Is that it?"

"Perhaps a little that way," answered Paul, frankly. "You know he's got a nasty way of rubbing it in every time he does anything; that stings worse than the defeat itself does. I've never heard the last of that race, and how nicely he trimmed me. And to tell the honest truth, that was why I went to all the trouble and expense of having this new craft built to order. I want to turn the tables on him in the worst way."

"Couldn't have a better day for it!" nodded Hank.

"Oh! the weather is all to the good," declared Paul, impatiently; "but see here, you fellows have come down several miles--have you seen anything of another iceboat between here and Rushville?"

"Have we, fellows?" asked Hank, turning to his two companions and winking. "Was that a real iceboat that went whipping past us just after we started out; or might it have been just a shadow when a cloud passed over the sun? Yes, I rather guess it did look like the sassy thing Elmer used to cut circles with around all the other boats on the river last two years."

"Which way were they going did you say?" asked Paul, giving his chum a significant look, as if to say: "What did I tell you; didn't I remark that this was going to be a red letter day with me, since it would wipe out the sting of that old defeat at the hands of Elmer Craven, which I've never heard the last of?"

"Oh! up-river like a streak of light," replied Hank. "No use talking, that _Glider_ can go to beat the Dutch; and Elmer knows how to sail her too, the best ever; but I like the looks of this new craft, Paul, and from the way Harry handles the tiller I opine now that you're just bound to give Elmer the time of his life when you challenge him to a race."

"That's what we intend to do, Hank," returned Paul. "Much obliged for telling us about him. We can keep going now till we scrape his acquaintance. He's been begging me for some time to get out and let him rub some of the rust from his runners. To-day suits me all right. And Hank, mark my words, the thirteenth of the month, you notice, is going to be a mighty unlucky day for Elmer Craven, if I don't miss my guess. It's skidoo for him, as sure as you're born. So-long, boys!"

Harry threw the sail around and immediately the _Lightning_ shot away with a sudden bound. They opened a big gap between themselves and the three boys standing there on the ice; but Paul, looking back could see Hank and his comrades waving their caps and sending out cheers that came but faintly to the ears of those who were speeding so rapidly up the river.

As a rule the Conoque ran due north and south, though there were places where abrupt turns were the exception. And as the breeze was almost due west this allowed of almost unlimited possibilities in sailing, with a craft so sensitive to the slightest breath of air as an iceboat on a smooth, mirror-like surface.

It took them but a short time to reach and pass the village of Rushville, situated on the left bank of the Conoque River. Of course quite a number of persons were enjoying the skating at this point; and the moment the _Lightning_ came into view around the bend half a mile below, loud shouts attested to the interest taken in her appearance.

Again did Harry slow up, as Paul wished to ask questions of these boys. The news received was to the effect that some time before Elmer and Pud Snooks had passed up, and incidentally come near running over a little child, as they purposely swung in as if to show just how close they could come to anyone without hitting them. The Rushville boys were quite indignant, and talking about it when the second iceboat hove in sight.

"On again, Harry," sang out Paul, after they had learned all they wanted to know. "We'll run across them somewhere above; and perhaps Elmer Craven will be in for the surprise of his life. Somehow I just feel that this is my day; and I want to make the most of it. Let her go, fellows; and thank you for telling us."

Harry had for the time being quite forgotten all about his troubles; and this was just what his chum desired most of all. Indeed, perhaps it was more to accomplish this than anything else that he sought a meeting with Elmer; though, of course, boy-like, he did want to even the old score, and pay up his debt.

"You've never been up this far before, I reckon?" he remarked, after they had left Rushville several miles behind.

"That's a fact, Paul," came the reply. "And I never dreamed that the Conoque was such a dandy stream for this sort of thing. Why, in places it's fully a quarter of a mile from bank to bank. Yes, I'm glad I've come with you, Paul."

"And perhaps you'll be more than glad before the morning passes," Paul was saying to himself; for he knew just how matters stood between Harry and Elmer; and that if they could manage to humiliate the proud, boastful spirit of the rich man's son, it must be more or less of a satisfaction to Harry.

Two minutes later and Paul gave vent to a cry.

"Look yonder!" he exclaimed. "A mile ahead the Cranberry flows into the Conoque; and unless my eyes deceive me there's an iceboat coming whooping down that smaller stream. Yep, that's the _Glider_, as sure as anything. I ought to know her build; and Harry, get ready now to show them _a streak of greased lightning_!"