CHAPTER XII.

OFF FOR INDIAN LAKE.

WHEN Joe Wayring beached his canoe below the boat-house, he was immediately surrounded by his friends who were impatient to hear all about it. They knew there had been a foul, for some of the laggards in the race had seen it; but they could not tell how it had been brought about, or who was to blame for it.

“It was Noble’s fault in the first place, and Tom Bigden’s in the second,” said Joe, in response to their hurried inquiries. “It seems that there are three ‘cliques’ in the club, one of which believes in doing things fairly, while the other two do not. Loren Farnsworth was ‘booked’ by one of the cliques to win the paddle race, while Frank Noble was the choice of the other. Each was determined that his opponent should not win, and the result was most disgraceful—a deliberate collision at the stake-boat in the presence of all these strangers. What sort of a story will they carry back to the city about the Mount Airy canoe club? Noble began the row by putting himself in Loren’s way and Tom retaliated by capsizing Frank’s canoe and throwing him out into the water.”

“Do you think he meant to do it?” inquired Hastings, who was far in the lead at the time, and could not of course see what was going on behind him.

“I know he did,” replied Joe, who then went on to give a circumstantial account of the manner in which the fouling was done. The boys all declared that it was a very neat trick, and one of them added—

“That Tom Bigden’s cheek is something wonderful. As soon as he had backed out of Loren’s way and laid himself across the course so that we couldn’t get by him without losing more ground than we could possibly make up, he called out that he claimed foul on that. Did you ever hear of such impudence?”

“Please give me your attention for one moment, gentlemen,” shouted the president of the club; and Joe and his friends turned about to see the referee perched upon a dry-goods box.

“Young gentlemen,” said he, as the boys gathered around him, “the contestants in the paddle race will go over the course again this afternoon, one hour after lunch. They will be the same as before, with the exception of Frank Noble and Thomas Bigden, whom I am compelled to bar out. It is exceedingly unpleasant to me to be obliged to render this decision, but the rules under which your sports are conducted leave me no alternative.”

“What do you think of that, fellows?” said Arthur Hastings. “If Bigden isn’t satisfied now that he can’t run this club to suit his own ideas, I shall always think he ought to be.”

“Well, Noble,” said Prime. “You’re done for at last. You are ruled out of every thing. What are you going to do?”

“What are _you_ going to do?” asked Frank in reply.

“I? Nothing at all. What can I do?”

“You can go home with me, can’t you?”

“Eh? Well—yes; I suppose I could, but I don’t want to. The fun is only just beginning.”

“And are you going to stay here and enjoy yourself and assist in making the meet a success when one of your friends is barred out?” exclaimed Noble, indignantly. “I didn’t think that of you, Prime. Why didn’t you stay close to me so that you could put in a word to help me? You knew what I was going to do.”

“I couldn’t stay close to you. Those fellows in the lead made the pace so hot that I had to fall behind, and I didn’t see the foul when it occurred.”

“No matter for that. You could have said something in my defense if you had wanted to; but instead of standing by me, you left me to fight Joe Wayring and the judge alone. Look there! Bigden’s cousins are not going back on him as you are going back on me. Tom is preparing to go home, and they are going with him.”

But Noble did not know what a stormy time Tom had with Loren and Ralph before he could induce them to forego all the sports and pleasures of the meet. Loren was particularly obstinate. He was satisfied now that he was a pretty good hand with a double paddle, and confident that if any of the three recognized champions beat him when the afternoon race came off, they would have to make their canoes get through the water faster than they ever did before. Then there was the upset race, which Ralph was almost sure he could win, and the greasy pole walk, with Miss Arden’s silk flag to go to the best man—must they give up all these things just because Tom had been ruled out?

“What’s the reason I am ruled out?” exclaimed Tom, who was as mad as a boy ever gets to be. “Isn’t it because I tried my best to help Loren win the paddle race? I tell you that you don’t stand the least show of winning any thing; but stay if you want to.”

Ralph and Loren were well enough acquainted with Tom to know that there was a volume of meaning in his last words. If they braved his anger they would be sure to suffer for it in the end, and if Tom turned against them, where could they look for friends and associates? Prime and his followers would not have any thing more to do with them; Joe Wayring, unless he was as blind as a bat, had seen quite enough to make him suspicious of them; and when they came to look at it, they found that they were in a very unenviable situation.

“I’d give almost any thing if I could live the last half hour over again,” declared Loren, after he had taken a few minutes in which to consider the matter. “We’ve made Noble and his crowd so mad that they’ll never look at us again, Tom is just as good as expelled from the club, and we may as well give up all hope of being admitted to the Toxophilites. We’re at outs with every body, and the only thing we can do is to stand by one another.”

Ralph thought so, too. Without wasting any more time in argument they put on their long coats to cover up the uniforms they would probably never wear again, shoved off their canoes, and set out for home; and no one except Frank Noble saw them go. The other members of the club were too much interested in their own affairs to pay any attention to the movements of a boy who had gone deliberately to work to mar their day’s enjoyment.

“Tom’s got two fellows to stand by him, but I am left alone,” thought Noble, with no little bitterness in his heart. “Prime and the rest of them pretend to hate Wayring and his crowd, and yet they are willing to stay and help on the sports after I have been kicked out of the lists. For two cents I’d hunt up Wayring and tell him to look out for Scott and Lord.”

But he didn’t do it. He knew that such a proceeding would turn every body against him, and he had made enemies enough already. Without attracting attention he got into his canoe and paddled down to his boat-house.

The unfortunate ending of the paddle race had a most depressing effect upon the members of the canoe club, some of whom declared that their organization was on the eve of falling to pieces. After that every thing “dragged”. The whole programme was duly carried out, but the contestants did not enter into the sports with their usual spirit and energy. Scott and Lord, who were “booked” for the sailing and upset races, respectively, won nothing at all. They could not win fairly, and the promptness with which Tom and Frank had been ruled out deterred them from attempting any tricks. Arthur Hastings won the paddle race after a hard struggle; Joe Wayring, being the first to walk the greasy pole, carried off Miss Arden’s silk flag; and Roy for once went home as empty handed as he came, the sailing and upset races being won by other boys. But Roy wasn’t mad about it, as some of the unsuccessful ones were. He had come there for a “good time”, and he had it; and his failure to win a prize did not spoil his day’s sport.

After the spectators had gone back to their hotels and all the members of the club had set out for home, the three chums sat down in the boat-house to compare notes.

“I am glad it’s over,” said Roy, giving expression to the thoughts that were passing through the minds of his companions. “It was the meanest meet I ever heard of. I wouldn’t have had that affair at the stake-boat happen for any thing. Those visitors from New London will say that we are as bad as the professional oarsmen who saw their boats, and capsize themselves on purpose.”

“Well, you expected something of the kind, didn’t you?” said Joe. “I