CHAPTER II. AN IMPROMPTU RACE BETWEEN THE BEECH HILL BARGES.
"Here are eight of us, and not one of the eight has touched any beer since he joined the school," said Lew Shoreham, after the majority of the boys had gone, and he had got the bearings of the question under discussion.
"I am in favor of standing out, for one," added Tom Ridley. "I am willing to do my duty and obey all the rules, but I am not going to be rigged out like a state-prison bird when I haven't done anything out of the way."
"It looks like punishing the whole crowd for the sins of the two fellows who drank the beer," continued Harry Franklin.
"If the captain knows who the fellows are, why don't he put them into uniform, and not make black sheep of the whole of us?"
"I don't believe in doing anything in a hurry," interposed Bart Cornwall. "If we are going to stand out, we want to know what we are about before we begin."
"That's my idea," added Bob Swanton. "Let us understand what we are going to do before we begin."
"Perhaps we had better talk it over among ourselves before we do anything," mused Lew Shoreham. "There is time enough before to-morrow morning."
"That's the idea," Life Windham chimed in. "The worst we can do is to refuse to wear the uniform; and we can't refuse before the clothes are given to us."
"By the way, did you fellows hear that the Chesterfield students have two barges like ours?" inquired Phil Gawner.
"I know they have, for I saw the kid-glovers out in them," replied Lick Milton.
"When did you see them, Lick?" asked Lew Shoreham.
"Day before yesterday. They were pulling in the barges near the shore."
"The rest of the fellows will go off without us if we don't hurry up," added Bart Cornwall. "Sandy Beach is not far from the Chesterfield Institute."
Phil Gawner bolted from the room in hot haste, and the other rebels followed him. The rebellion seemed to be forgotten, for there was already something like rivalry existing between the two educational institutions on the opposite sides of the lake. The Chesterfield young gentlemen, when they came within hailing distance of the boys of Beech Hill, had taken occasion to manifest their contempt by words, signs, and other demonstrations. They called the industrial school "The Tinkers' Institute," and this term was exceedingly offensive to our boys.
But the beautiful steam yacht in which the "Tinkers" voyaged on the lake, and especially the magnificent twelve-oar barges in which they sported upon the waves, excited the envy of the "Kid-Glovers." Colonel Buckmill suddenly found his prestige slipping away from him. He had a variety of boats for the use of his students, though none of them were sailing craft. He was no sailor himself, and he had a mortal dread of sailboats.
As soon as he realized the state of feeling among his students, he hastened to New York, where he succeeded in finding a couple of barges like those which had been built for the Beech Hill school. He had purchased them at a large price, and they had arrived a few days before. Colonel Buckmill was a soldier and a gentleman, but he wished that Captain Gildrock had located his fanciful school, as he regarded it, a thousand miles from Lake Champlain.
"What's the matter now?" demanded Matt Randolph, when the rebels rushed out on the pier at which the two barges lay. "I thought you were going to deprive us of the pleasure of your company to-day."
"We have concluded to go with you, and keep you out of hot water," replied Lew.
"And keep yourselves out of hot water, which is more sensible," added the coxswain of the Gildrock, as he seated his crew in the boat.
"I thought you were not going for fear some one would see you and know that you belong to the B. H. I. S.," added Will Orwell, with a laugh.
"Up oars!" shouted Matt, when the crew of both boats were seated; and the order was repeated by Dory.
Ten oars in each boat went up to a perpendicular, with the flat side of the blades parallel with the thwarts. The coxswains looked them over to see that all were in proper position.
"Shove off!" continued the coxswains.
The bow oarsmen shoved off the head of each barge, and the stroke oarsmen used their boathooks until the boats were clear of the pier. Then the bowmen coiled up the painters, and the after oarsmen took care of the stern lines. When they had done this duty, they elevated their oars without any orders.
"Let fall!" said Matt and Dory, when the boats were clear of the pier. The crews had been so well trained that the twenty-four oars struck the water at the same instant; but the loom, or part near the handle, of the oars was not allowed to fall upon the rail, or into the rowlocks. They are put in proper position after they are dropped.
"Give way—together!" said Matt and Dory, when they had seen that each oarsman was ready for the pull.
All the rowers caught the stroke the first time trying, but it had taken a great deal of practice to enable them to do so. The boys pulled a very even, uniform, and steady stroke. All the oars were raised to the same height above the water, and sunk to the same depth beneath its surface.
The barges were not mere fancy craft, built for speed, and for nothing else. Considering their great size they were very light, but they were strongly built. They were constructed after a beautiful model, yet at the same time they were good sea boats, able and safe. As the students were liable to be caught on the other side of the lake in rough weather, Captain Gildrock considered staunch boats as necessary on Lake Champlain as on the ocean. The short, choppy sea of the fresh-water lakes is more trying to any kind of a craft than the long waves of the Atlantic.
The two barges darted down the lake as though they had been shot from a gun. It was a cool day, with the wind fresh from the northwest, and the crews were in just the right condition to do their best at the oars. Since their recent defeat in the race, the first class had been working hard to improve in rowing, and Matt Randolph had succeeded in imparting his own enthusiasm to his crew. But nothing was said about another race, for the first class meant to be sure before they risked another trial. Dory Dornwood saw what the machinists—as they sometimes called the higher class—were about, and he did not go to sleep.
The boats passed through the narrow outlet into Beaver River, and the Winooski appeared to have lost a length in coming down from Beech Hill Lake. Dory watched the Gildrock, and soon discovered that she was gaining on him. The other crew had been practising by themselves a good deal lately, and it was evident that Matt Randolph had made a decided improvement both in style and power in the work of his crew.
Dory said nothing, and did not attempt to increase the speed of his boat. At the mouth of the river the Gildrock was half a dozen lengths ahead of him, and her crew seemed to be exerting themselves to widen the distance between the two barges. The boys of the leading boat could see the other all the time, while the Winooskis could not, for no rower was allowed to look behind him.
"The Gildrock is half a mile ahead of us!" exclaimed Life Windham, the stroke oarsman of the Winooski; for the other boat had changed her course to the southward, and a side glance had enabled him to see her.
"Not so bad as that, Life," replied Dory, with a smile.
"Don't let them beat us, Dory," added Ned Bellows, on the next thwart.
"They have been getting ready to whip us," said Dick Short. "They have been at work by themselves for the last week."
"They have got about all the older and stouter fellows in the school, and we must expect that they will beat us sometimes," replied Dory philosophically. "But we have also been in training, and if they beat us they have got to work for it."
"But they are beating us!" exclaimed Life, as he got another glance at the Gildrock. "Matt Randolph has been putting in some extra New York touches, and it is all up with us."
"Not yet," answered Dory quietly. "We have been taking it easy, and they have been using their muscle. Wait a little."
By this time every boy in the Winooski was aware that the Gildrock was running away from them, and the fact vexed and annoyed them. If they were beaten, even in a "scrub race," Dory would lose a portion of his popularity. The coxswain watched the other boat, but he did nothing to increase the speed of the Winooski. Some of the boys in the boat began to grumble, though conversation was not allowed while rowing.
"No talking in the boat, if you please, fellows," the coxswain interposed, and the grumbling ceased.
Dory could see that the Gildrocks were straining themselves to run away from the Winooski. The first class fellows were not so far off that he could not read the expression of their faces, and see the smiles of satisfaction with which they regarded their advantage. He permitted them to enjoy their victory, as they evidently regarded it, until they were at least twenty-five lengths ahead. Matt Randolph frequently looked behind him to note the position of his rival.
All at once the oars of the Gildrock ceased to move, but every blade was in proper position. Then came three rousing cheers from her crew, with a tiger at the end. This was certainly crowing over the victory: The Winooskis, except the coxswain, were vexed, and even angry. Some of them began to grumble again; but Dory laughed, and called for silence in the boat. The crew obeyed the order, for they had come to believe that Dory knew what he was about "every time."
His crew soon knew what he was about, for he straightened up his wiry little frame, and then began to sway it back and forward to regulate the stroke of the rowers. In a few minutes every muscle was strained up to its utmost tension. The Winooski began to fly through the water. There was quite a smart sea on the lake, which Dory took into account, and humored the boat as it met the waves.
The Gildrocks saw what Dory was doing, and Matt set his crew on the strain again. At the end of a quarter of an hour the Gildrock was less than a length ahead. The crew of the first class boat were in a terrible state of excitement. They could see the other boat, and the effect upon them was bad when the Winooski began to gain on them. The Gildrocks were demoralized.
In three minutes more the Winooski had passed the other barge.
"Stand by to toss!" said Dory quietly.
The complimentary salute was given, but the coxswain declined to call for three cheers.