Fred Fenton on the Crew Part 23

"Hennessy--Sherley--Harkness--Gould--Smith--Boggs--Waterman--Jones-- Wagner--_everybody pull!_"

And they did certainly pull for all they were worth, desperately anxious to overcome that half boat-length that still lay between them.

But, on the other, hand, an equal number of young athletes in the other sh.e.l.l were just as doggedly determined not to yield one inch, if it could be held by any power of theirs. Brad believed he could call for just one more little advance in the stroke, and he was only waiting until they reached a certain spot marked in his mind as the place where the final spurt must be made.

"Now, Riverport, once more, and for the last time, _give way!_" came in the shrill tones of the coach.

Immediately the final spurt was on. Mechanicsburg, too, had been holding just a mite in reserve for this killing last quarter of a mile.

As a consequence, the two boats seemed to retain about the same relative position as before, despite this change of stroke to a faster one.

The excitement ash.o.r.e, as they drew rapidly nearer the line, was tremendous. Some fellows jumped up and down, waving their hats, and shrieking; while girls swung their colored banners frantically any way, in order to add to the confusion.

But there was not a single one who would remove their eyes for even a second from the stirring spectacle of those two sh.e.l.ls, spinning side by side down the river, with only the little s.p.a.ce of a second, as it were, marking the difference between victory and defeat.

Now they were close on the line, and Mechanicsburg gave one mighty pull, as if hoping to send their boat at least level with that of their antagonists, so that the chances of a tie might be improved.

"Look at Riverport, would you? They've been keeping it back all the time!"

"Oh! my, what a spurt! See 'em go, boys! We win! we win! Riverport takes the race! Hurrah! whoop! R-i-v-e-r-p-o-r-t! Siss! boom! ah!"

Amidst the roar of uncounted voices, the booming of several cannon held in readiness for just this very purpose, the bleating of horns, and everything else that could be utilized to create a racket, the Riverport sh.e.l.l shot pa.s.s the deciding stakeboat, fully a length ahead of their rivals.

It had been a clean race, with not a single note of discord. Although beaten, Mechamcsburg had carried their colors with honor; and a mighty shout from friend and foe alike attested to the satisfaction felt by all who had witnessed the close contest.

CHAPTER XXV

BRIGHT SKIES

Riverport went fairly wild that night over the success of the school crew in the race against the crack oarsmen of Mechanicsburg. Perhaps there were a few fellows who took little or no satisfaction in the great victory. Buck Lemington might be set down as one of these; because, as a rule, Buck never enjoyed seeing his school win, unless he could be the central attraction, the hero to whom the plaudits of the cheering throngs were mainly given.

But no one cared much what Buck Lemington thought. Surely Fred Fenton was of a mind that the Lemingtons, father and son, were soon to be routed, horse, foot and artillery, when the long missing Hiram Masterson returned, as he had promised to do in that letter from far away Hong Kong, and tell all that he knew about the scheme of those in the syndicate to cheat Mr. Fenton out of his just rights.

And Bristles, too, was a happy fellow those days. He had known what it was to taste of the bitterness of having unfounded suspicion cast upon him. The pleasure of feeling that his name was fully cleared made him secretly resolve that if he knew it, his mother would never have to experience the sorrow that was evidently in store for Gabe Larkins'

parent, unless that tricky boy changed his ways.

Nor was Bristles apt to forget that he owed most of his present condition of satisfaction to the earnest efforts of his good chum, Fred Fenton. Who but Fred would have taken it upon himself to interview Miss Muster, and get acquainted with the facts in the case? And who but he could have guessed the ident.i.ty of the guilty party; which he later on proved so wonderfully well, in the presence of the old maid who had met with the loss of her precious jewels?

Bristles never told what a siege of suspense he had pa.s.sed through. And if there were any curious ones among his mates, who took it upon themselves to wonder why their usually lively, wide-awake comrade moped, as he had done for a time, they had to take it out in guessing.

Fred did have one very pleasant little surprise sprung upon him, and which made him feel more drawn to the old maid than ever.

On the very night of the boat race, when the atmosphere of all Riverport was vibrating with parading crowds, and bonfires were already springing up, to celebrate the great victory of the young oarsmen, Fred, returning home about supper time, found a little packet beside his plate.

It had not come by mail, and undoubtedly his mother knew something about who sent or brought it; for there was a glow in her eyes as she watched him handle it, with a questioning look in his own.

"Suppose you open it, Fred, instead of trying to guess," proposed his sister Kate.

"Well," he replied, laughingly, "that does seem like a sensible thing for you to say, Kate. Perhaps I am a little dazed or rattled; who wouldn't be after taking part in such a grand race as that? You were there, Mom; for I noticed you waving your pocket handkerchief; and I wager now, you never saw anybody but the Fenton boy who was on the crew. I say, now, what's all this mean?"

Father, mother, and sister all watching him, Fred had opened the little packet; and out upon the table rolled three handsome opals, that seemed to take on all the hues of the rainbow as the light of the evening lamp fell upon them.

He also unrolled a sheet of paper on which were a few lines in a rather crabbed hand; which Fred would once have said was just like the character of the whimsical old maid herself, but which he now knew must be caused by age.

"Dear Boy:--I want you to accept these few tokens of my esteem, to know that I shall never forget what you have done to show me how necessary it always should be to look well before you leap. You will make me happy by keeping these, and saying nothing about the folly of

"Your Old Maid Friend,

"Alicia Muster."

"Just to think, she sends me these valuable opals, because I happened to help prove that Bristles didn't take her gems," Fred said, wonderingly, as he looked down at the handsome present that had been given to him.

"Well, I think you earned them," remarked Mrs. Fenton, proudly; "and when your father hears the whole story, which I have only kept from telling him because I wanted you to have that pleasure, I'm sure he'll agree with me. Yes, you ought to be a lawyer, Fred. You are cut out for a successful one."

"And then to think that he was on the crew that beat those smart Mechanicsburg fellows," Kate declared, as though to her mind that fact dwarfed everything else; "but, Fred, they are beginning to talk already how they mean to get even with Riverport this Fall. You know they had a fine gymnasium given to them by a rich man, and already they have started to practice all sorts of track events. I understand they mean to challenge Riverport to a meet; and having the advantage of that gymnasium, they expect to pay us back for the times we've beaten them."

"Oh! they do, eh?" remarked Fred, as though not greatly worried; "well, there will be two who must have a say in that, Riverport as well as Mechanicsburg. Perhaps they may turn out to have the better all-'round athletes; time will tell."

And time did tell; for the proposed athletic meet came to pa.s.s in the Fall. What stirring things happened along about that time, as well as the inspiring incidents connected with the great meet itself, will be recorded in the next story of this series, to be called: "Fred Fenton on the Track; Or, The Athletics of Riverport School."

Of course the Fentons were looking eagerly forward to the time when Hiram Masterson would redeem his promise to return and testify against the overbearing syndicate that was endeavoring to get possession of that rich Alaska mine, which had once belonged to Fred's uncle.

Days might pa.s.s, but each one meant in all probability that the missing witness, abducted by orders of the powerful combination of capitalists, was drawing closer; and every night on his return home Mr. Fenton fully expected to find the man from Alaska sitting at the table awaiting his coming.

True, he seemed to have so much knowledge of the almost unlimited powers of he syndicate, with which Squire Lemington was connected in some way, that Hiram had declared his intention of coming in some sort of disguise, so that he could give his evidence under oath before his unscrupulous uncle even knew that he was on this side of the ocean.

And so, on the whole, those summer days were times of almost unlimited pleasure to Fred Fenton. After his unsuccessful attempt to burn the racing boat of the Riverport schoolboys, Buck Lemington had remained a long time quiet. Possibly he feared that his crony, Conrad Jimmerson, when he was caught in Colon's quaint trap, might have told something of the truth before his mouth was closed by hearing that threatening signal outside. And Buck was waiting now to learn if anything was about to be done, in order to bring him to punishment.

Of course such a nature as his could not remain very quiet for any great length of time; and as the days grew into weeks doubtless his resentment toward Fred would once more become hot.

Then there would be more exciting times; for when Buck really worked himself up to a certain pitch, things were apt to happen.

The boys and girls of Riverport always did manage to have a good time during the summer holidays. True, there could be no singing school, and dances in the barn, such as winter brought along in its train; no skating on the river, sleighing over country roads with a pretty girl alongside, and the merry chime of bells in the air; but then picnics were held every little while; and as for the group of boys who somehow looked upon Fred as a sort of leader, there was hardly a weekday during the entire vacation that they did not go fishing, or at least pay a visit to the old "swimming hole."

When together, Bristles and Fred often talked about the affair of the opals. The latter said that his aunt kept in constant touch with Gabe Larkins, and seemed to be gaining considerable influence over the wild lad.

"I don't just know whether he means to reform, or is only pulling the wool over Aunt Alicia's eyes," Bristles declared; "but, anyhow, he seems to be walking a straight line now. Why, his mother told mine just yesterday that she didn't know what had come over Gabe, he was that considerate of her feelings nowadays. She wondered if he could be feeling ill, and expectin' to die. But maw just told her not to worry; that she reckoned he was only feelin' sorry because he'd been so bad in the past."

"I hope he means it," said Fred, with considerable earnestness in his voice. "It's a pretty hard thing for the leopard to change his spots, father says; but if Gabe does turn over a new leaf, he certainly ought to be helped by everybody."

"Oh!" said Bristles, quickly, "I stopped and shook hands with him the last time we met. And say, Fred, there did seem to be something a little different about his eyes; looked me square in the face, and you know he used to be seeing somethin' over your head every time before. I wonder now does it mean anything?"

But that again was another thing that only time could prove. Whether Gabe did really see a light, and mean to change his ways, or was playing a foxy game for some purpose, there could be no way of telling, until he chose to come out into the open.

Here, with the horizon looking so bright for those in whose fortunes we have come to feel such a deep interest, it may be as well for us to say good-bye for the present, and leave a further recital of their adventures and contests to another time.