CHAPTER XV
THE CHALLENGE
"Well, we didn't do so badly," remarked Frank, when the oarsmen had returned to the float, and had carefully lifted out the shell.
"Oh, it might have been worse," admitted his brother.
"We didn't make very fast time," declared Jack.
"And we didn't try for it," said Frank quickly. "We want to get so we pull a good stroke together, and then we can hit up the pace."
"I know one thing," said Ward quietly, "and that is that my feet are wet."
"Isn't that leak stopped up yet?" asked Frank in disappointed tones. "We'll have to put some more daub on it. Let's do it right away before we forget it." They set to work over the patched-up shell, surrounded by a curious and admiring group of their companions.
"When are you going to challenge Waterside?" asked one lad.
"Oh, it's time enough to think of that," said Frank with a laugh.
"And then I suppose you'll tackle Milton Academy," suggested another. "They have a good crew in their four-oared shell."
"Say, we've got to creep before we can row the other schools," replied the elder Racer lad. "But if it's at all possible we'll challenge both crews. There's no reason why Riverview shouldn't get back in the game the same as she used to be."
"That's the way to talk!" cried several.
"I wish you'd get a football eleven started," spoke Jake Wilson. "Our boys are beginning to wake up."
"Perhaps we'll get at that after the rowing season ends," said Andy. "There's a good gridiron here, but it needs fixing up."
"So do the grandstands and dressing rooms," spoke one lad, waving his hands toward the dilapidated structures. "We can't accommodate a crowd on those seats."
Frank said nothing. The task of rejuvenating such a run-down school as Riverside was appeared almost hopeless. But he was not the sort of a lad to give up so easily.
The small leak was soon stopped. There might be others, and at best the shell was but a makeshift, but it was a start and that counts for a good deal in many things besides racing.
In the room of our heroes that night there was quite a lively session of the "crew" as the four chums had come to be called. Rowing in all its phases was discussed and Jack brought out several books on the subject, written by well-known school and college authorities.
"Are you really in earnest about challenging Waterside?" asked Ward, during a pause in the conversation.
"I surely am," answered Frank. "I don't see why we shouldn't. We can soon get in trim, and, while our shell isn't as good as theirs, it's the rowing that counts, not the boat so much."
"I doubt if they'll race us," said Ward.
"Why not?" Andy wanted to know.
"Oh, they'll say we're not in their class."
"And that means they're afraid!" exclaimed Frank. "I think they'll race us all right. Why, for the last few years it's been like a close corporation—only Waterside and Milton in it. They ought to be glad of a change."
There came a knock on the door, and the boys jumped, from habit, as much as from anything else.
"Who's there?" asked Frank quickly.
"Monitor Jones," was the answer. "The warning bell has rung some time ago and I thought I'd let you know that Professor Callum is coming this way on his rounds."
"Thanks, Jonesy!" exclaimed Frank. "Much obliged. Scoot fellows!" he said. "No use in getting caught if we can help it. Jonesy is a brick. I'm going to give him a suit I've no use for. I saw him shivering out on the field to-day."
Jones was a lad who was "working his way" through the school by doing some of the necessary monitor work. He was a tall, ungainly lad, who made few friends, but he had taken a liking to the Racer boys, and several times he had warned them of impending visits of the professors. The "crew" quickly dispersed and when Professor Callum, hoping to catch the lads whom he associated with his discomfiture, tiptoed to their room, they were in bed.
"Fooled again" chuckled Andy, as the irate instructor passed on to his own apartment.
"And the doctor hasn't said a word about the basket of chaff yet," added Frank. "I guess he won't."
Busy days followed. The "crew" went out to practice, rowing at every opportunity. The shell sprung another leak, but it was fixed, and now the frail craft, on which the hopes of the school depended, was in fairly good shape.
As yet none of the teachers, or Dr. Doolittle, had taken any interest in the prospective race. I say prospective, for no challenge had yet been sent to Waterside. It is doubtful with the many worries he had whether Dr. Doolittle knew anything about the repairing of the shell. Certainly Mr. Callum did not care one way or the other.
Gradually Frank and his chums improved their form, until one afternoon, following a practice spin, one of the seniors said:
"Say, you fellows are all right. I had a chance to time the Waterside four the other day over a two-mile course, and I just clocked you. You had five minutes the better of them."
"No! Really!" exclaimed Frank in delight.
"Sure. Of course I'm not certain that they were rowing their best, but that's the time."
"Well, we haven't hit up the pace to our own limit yet," declared Andy.
"No indeed!" exclaimed Jack.
There was more practice, hard, grueling work, and at the end of another week Frank announced that he was satisfied. By mutual consent he had been made captain.
"I'm going to write a challenge to Waterside to-night," he said.
"Hurray!" cried his chums.
The challenge was couched in rather mild terms as befitted a school that had been out of the running for several years. But a chance to show what they could do was respectfully asked, and it was intimated that an early reply would be appreciated.
"There, now I'll go down to the post-office and drop this in," said Frank, when it had been finished to the satisfaction of all.
As he dropped in the box the missive, which meant so much to Riverview, Frank was aware of two girls hastening up the street toward the post-office. As they came under a gas lamp he recognized them as Gertrude Morton and Grace Knox.
"Oh, Frank—Mr. Racer!" exclaimed Gertrude. "I am so glad I met you!"
"Why, what is the matter?" asked the lad, for he was aware of a note of trouble in her voice.
"Everything!" she exclaimed. "I just came to post a special delivery letter to you. I wanted you to get it the first thing in the morning, and the mail at Dailsburg is so slow. We have just received word from Professor Callum that he has started proceedings to take our home away from us unless his debt is paid at once! Oh, what shall we do?" and Gertrude began crying on the shoulder of her chum.