Fred Fenton on the Crew Part 7

"Each one of you get a grip on an arm; and be sure you don't let him grab you," was what Fred said.

Brad readily carried out the instructions, and helped buoy up the helpless boy; while Sid Wells took the other arm.

"He's dead!" cried the latter, seeing that Colon no longer struggled, but lay like a log in the water.

"Don't you believe it," answered Fred, instantly. "He's swallowed a whole lot of water, and is pretty far gone; but let's get him ash.o.r.e, and revive him!"

Others had by now come up, and between the lot poor Colon was hurried to the bank, up which he was carried.

"Lay him here, face down, so I can straddle him with my knees!" Fred called out. "Now, some of you begin, and work his arms back and forth regularly, while I press down on his lungs so as to induce artificial breathing. That's the only way to get things started, you see. A little harder, Brad, please. And don't the rest of you look so scared. He's going to come out of this. He wasn't under the water any time at all, but just gave way because of the cramp and the scare."

So Fred talked as he worked, and all the while he was building up the hopes of the fellows, who looked peaked and white, under the belief that they had seen the last of their chum, the good-natured Colon.

And Fred was right.

In a very short time one of the boys who were working Colon's arms like the piston rods of a locomotive cried out:

"He moved a little then, fellows!"

"And listen to that, would you?" exclaimed another delighted chum, as Colon plainly sighed.

In five minutes Colon recovered enough to be helped back to camp, where he was rubbed down until his skin fairly glowed, and then hustled between a pair of blankets, to rest, while the others dressed, and got breakfast ready.

Colon had learned his lesson. He would never again persist in remaining in ice-cold water when he was shivering, and his lips turning blue.

Nature has a way of sending up a warning sign, that every intelligent fellow ought to heed.

That day pa.s.sed all too soon, and another night arrived, the last they expected to spend in camp up on the Mohunk. The following day the wagon belonging to Judge Colon, an uncle of the tall boy, and put at the service of the young campers, would come to "tote" all the stuff back to town again, and some of the boys in the bargain.

Of course nine of them would go back, as they had come, in the boat.

And this time there was no need of any secrecy, so they could expect to excite more or less curiosity when they shot past Mechanicsburg.

The mere thought inspired the boys with eagerness. In imagination they could already see the wondering faces lining the bank, and the people running to see as the word was pa.s.sed hurriedly along that the new eight-oared sh.e.l.l of the Riverport crew was sighted up the river.

They had become very careful now about the boat, which was growing more valuable in their eyes every hour, as they developed its capabilities.

Catch any of them throwing torches around promiscuously now; no one ever touched the fire so that the sparks flew, but half a dozen pairs of anxious eyes followed the course they took, and speculation arose as to the chances of their doing any damage.

During the morning another trial spin was taken, with Colon again in his place, and pulling a strong oar. Brad and Fred both declared that the crew was coming on famously, and would be able to give a good account of themselves when the time arrived to meet their old rivals of Mechanicsburg.

Along about three in the afternoon the wagon arrived. As the tents had been taken down, and all the camp things well packed, it took but a short time to load up. Then the wagon started, escorted by the eight fellows who could not find places in the boat.

The crew gave them a cheer for a send-off, and received as loud a salute in return. After which they took their places in the long, narrow boat, for the run of seven miles down the river home.

Brad was keenly alive to every little thing that took place. Like a wise c.o.xswain he felt that he ought to know each man's weakness, if he had any, so as to build him up into a perfect part of the whole machine. For a boat crew must act as though it were one unit, at the nod and whim of the fellow who sits in the stern, doing the steering, and by his motions increasing or diminishing the stroke. If one cog fails to work perfectly, the entire thing collapses.

"Fine! Great work, fellows!" Brad was saying again and again after they had pa.s.sed over a couple of miles down-stream. "You're doing yourselves proud; and honest now, I believe you could take a little faster stroke.

We must be doing our prettiest when we spurt past Mechanicsburg."

Brad had just finished saying this when he received one of the surprises of his life. His eyes were the only ones that could see down the river, and as he happened to glance over toward the left bank, where there was something of a neck of land shutting a large bay out of sight, judge of his amazement when he discovered the pointed prow of a racing boat thrusting out, and headed toward the middle of the river.

And as Brad sat there, almost petrified, as he afterwards declared, the boat shot into view, containing a crew of eight, and a c.o.xswain, in the latter of whom he recognized Buck Lemington.

CHAPTER IX

A LUCKY WIN

"Listen, boys!"

When the c.o.xswain said this, every fellow as the oars strained his hearing, under the belief that Brad had something mighty interesting to communicate. Possibly some of them, having their eyes constantly on the c.o.xswain, had seen by his manner that Brad must have discovered something down-stream. But no one dared try and twist his head around, in order to see for himself.

"Don't anybody try to look," Brad went on; "but we're going to have a little brush right now. Buck and his bunch have got that boat from Grafton, and, finding out that we are expected to pa.s.s down the river this afternoon, they've been lying in wait for us!"

Every fellow gave utterance to an exclamation, or a whistle, to indicate both his astonishment, and pleasure as well.

"Now, keep on working regularly as you are, and brace yourselves, every fellow, for a furious spurt, if we have to make one. Might as well learn what our boat can do, first as last. Take care how you dip in, because a crab would upset us all. They've struck the middle of the river now, and are letting us catch up on them. I can see Whitey, Clem Shooks, Jones, Jimmerson and Ben Gushing, anyway. And they're grinning as if they meant to make monkeys of the Riverport Boat Club boys. Shall we stand for it, fellows?"

Evidently Brad knew just how to key his crew up to doing their best; for his question was instantly answered with a thunderous:

"Not much we won't!"

"Get ready, then, because we're bearing down on 'em fast now," the wary c.o.xswain continued, in a husky voice, caused by the excitement, no doubt. "There, they've increased their stroke so that we will come up slower, and not take the advantage from them at the start. It's a race, fellows! Let's pitch in now, and overtake the outlaw crew!"

Brad knew that the greatest danger lay in one of the boys becoming so worked up that he would miss a stroke, and "catch a crab," in boating language. This would cause him to break the stroke of the entire crew, if it did nothing more serious; and give the race to their rivals.

And so he continued to speak warning words to them as he regulated his motions, and the stroke in turn.

"Easy there Sid, old fellow; don't try to rush things. Keep in line with Fred, because he's the stroke oar, you know. That was a fine one.

Again and yet again, boys! Now we're on even terms with 'em, and we're bound to go ahead, believe me!"

"Like fun you are!" called out Buck Lemington, being close enough to catch what Brad was saying.

Perhaps Buck added just a little more speed to his motions, rendered desperate by the fact that thus far he and his fellows had not been able to keep the other sh.e.l.l from gradually cutting down the lead they had in the beginning.

No matter what he did, he must have helped stop this gain on the part of Brad's crew. Now the two boats were rushing swiftly down the river, neck and neck, as it were, and going at a speed that seemed marvelous to these boys, unused to anything of the sort.

For a short time both crews seemed to be working with clock-like regularity; and it would have won the praise of an old boating man just to have watched them. Of course this could hardly last, for they were both sadly lacking in practice; and at almost any second one of the sixteen lads was apt to be taken with a sudden cramp, or miss his stroke, throwing his crew into confusion, and perhaps upsetting the boat in the excitement.

But they could all swim now, even Bristles Carpenter; so the worst that could happen, should such an accident overtake them, would be the loss of the race, and the consequent disappointment.

To have those fellows with Buck Lemington crowing over them, would be a bitter pill to Brad's crew. And they were really doing their level best to avoid such a punishment.

There was the town of Mechanicsburg right ahead of them. Brad hoped that the river might be quite free of boats that would interfere with the pa.s.sage of the two fleet racers. To have to dodge any pleasure craft would mar the sport, and give one or the other an unfair advantage.

It was a square race, and Brad wanted to see the best crew win.

Naturally he hoped it would fall to his side to arrive at the Riverport bridge ahead; but it must be a clean, fair win to satisfy him; for trickery and Brad Morton did not pull together very well.