get all the swash? It would make me lose a quarter minute or more, and perhaps upset me.”
“Jiminey crickets! I believe you are right!” whispered Harry.
“Did they mention the steam launch?”
“They did. Browling said he would go and take a look at her.”
“Then that is what the plot is, you may be sure of it. You ought to be able to stop them, Harry. You are going to be on your uncle’s naptha launch.”
“I will! If they get too close to you I’ll boathook them and pull them off!” cried Harry.
“Good for you.”
“But beware, Jerry, the plot may not be that after all.”
“I’ll keep my eyes open,” replied the young oarsman.
A minute after this Harry went off.
Then Jerry, having donned his rowing outfit, was surrounded by the other members of the club. His shell was inspected and found in perfect condition. It had been guarded carefully, and now the club members did not dare to let their eyes off of it.
“Bring me my blades, please,” said Jerry, and they were at once brought from the locker.
He began to examine them from end to end. Suddenly he uttered a cry.
“Boys, look here!”
“What’s up, Jerry?”
“This one has been strained and cracked. An extra hard pull on it, and it would give out.”
A murmur arose.
“Who did this?”
“Some enemy wants Jerry to lose, sure!”
How the blade had got into that condition was a mystery.
But now was no time to speculate on the affair. A new set of blades must be procured at once.
Luckily there was a pair belonging to a private party to be had. They were just the same size and weight.
“I would rather have my own, but I’ll make these do, and beat them in spite of all,” said Jerry.
At a given signal six of the boat club boys marched down the float carrying Jerry’s shell, which had been polished and oiled until it shone like a mirror.
With a faint splash the shell dropped into the water. Then Jerry ran down and stepped in. His feet were “locked,” and the oars were handed over.
“Hurrah for Jerry Upton!”
“He’s the boy to win!”
“Hurrah for Si Peters!”
“Jerry won’t be in it with Si!”
“He will!”
“Never!”
And so the talking and the shouting ran on.
Meanwhile Si Peters had emerged from the landing at a private boathouse some distance up the lake shore.
He received a hearty shout as he moved slowly over to the starting point.
Si Peters won the choice of positions, and, of course, took the inside.
The race should have been a mile straightway, but the original challenge which led to the race had been for a half mile going and the same coming.
Soon the two boys were in position.
“Ready?”
There was a dead silence.
Bang!
They were off! Both boys caught the water at the same instant. Each pulled a long but quick stroke. Ten yards were covered, and they remained side by side.
“Pull, Si!”
“Go it, Jerry!”
Like two clocks, so far as regularity went, the two contestants bent their backs and pulled with might and main.
One thing was certain, unless something happened, it would be a close race.
But now the Lakeview boys were getting wild.
“See Jerry! He is gaining.”
“Jerry is five feet and more in the lead!”
It was true. Slowly but surely our hero was forging ahead. Should he be able to keep this up he would cross Si Peters’ course at the turning point.
But now Wash Crosby showed his hand. Without so much as a toot of the whistle, his steam launch kept drawing closer and closer to Jerry’s side.
Then it gradually went ahead, until Jerry was caught in the swash of the tiny waves it produced.
Under ordinary circumstances these waves would not have been noticed, but in a shell, and especially during a race, even such apparent trifles count heavily.
“Keep off!” shouted the young oarsman.
“Mind your business!” shouted Wash Crosby in return, but so lowly that no one but Jerry could hear him. “This is Si Peters’ race!”
CHAPTER VII.
WHO WON THE SHELL RACE
Jerry saw at once that he had been right in imagining that this was the plot against him. Wash Crosby intended to keep just close enough to cause him trouble without actually fouling him.
Already the swash from the steam launch was telling on Jerry’s lead. Si Peters kept up at his best and soon was once more abreast of our hero.
“Hurrah!” came from the shore.
“Si Peters leads!”
“I said he would win!”
“That steam launch is too close to Jerry Upton.”
“Nonsense! Don’t croak because you are going to lose the race,” shouted Browling.
The Lakeview boys began to look glum.
But now something happened that Wash Crosby had not calculated upon.
Straight from across the lake came the naptha launch belonging to Harry Parker’s uncle. In the bow stood Harry, boathook in hand.
When the launch was within three yards of the Crosby craft she came to a halt. Wash Crosby was so interested in watching the race that he did not notice what was going on.
Harry threw the boathook and it caught fast in the steam launch’s stern. Then the naptha launch was moved back, and away she went, carrying the steam launch with her.
She could do this because Crosby did not have on a full head of steam.
Astonished at the turn of affairs, Wash Crosby looked around to see what was the matter.
“Hi! what are you doing?” he bellowed to Harry.
“Hauling you off,” returned Jerry’s chum. “I know your plot, Wash Crosby; but it is not going to work.”
“Let go there!”
“Not much! You’ll keep your distance from Jerry Upton’s shell.”
“I would like to know who made you my master!” stormed Crosby, in a perfect rage.
“If you don’t come away I’ll report you and get the town to lynch you,” retorted Harry, valiantly. “Don’t you dare to touch that boathook.”
However, Wash Crosby did dare. But as long as the line attached was taut he could not loosen it. Then he tried new tactics. He put on a full head of steam.
It was a tug of war between the steam and the naptha launches, and for the moment it was hard to tell which would come off victorious.
But Harry’s craft was more powerful than Crosby’s, and soon the steam launch was carried far away from the racing shells.
Wash Crosby was furious and would have eaten Harry up could he have gotten at the lad.
“I’ll fix you for this!” he cried and threw a