“You have won the fight,” he confessed, wiping the blood from his face with a handkerchief, “but I hate you just as much as I did before. I won’t shake hands with anybody I hate.”
“I don’t blame you a bit,” said Bart, at once. “I wouldn’t do it if I were in your place; but I don’t hold any hard feelings, though, to tell the truth, I might if you had licked me. I’m going to my room, and see if I can get myself in shape to dance again. So long.”
Then, tossing on his coat and vest, he sauntered away toward the hotel, leaving the defeated Blue Cove lad on the ball ground.
Addison put on his coat, muttering to himself:
“Oh, I hate all of that Yale crowd! I can’t wait any longer! I don’t believe they’ll have time to get another boat before the race. I’ll do the job now!”
As he started away, Diamond whispered to Spencer:
“That fellow is up to something crooked. Let’s watch him.”
“All right,” nodded Kent.
They followed Addison, and saw him go down back of the boathouse, where he stripped off all his clothing and prepared to go into the water.
“I think I know what he is up to,” declared Kent. “Come with me.”