“Humph! that’s too dead slow for me,” drawled Ritter. “I’d rather skin down to Dollon’s in town and play pool and have a smoke.”
“You’re right,” said Paxton. “Only, I haven’t any money with which to pay for such fun.”
“I heard something at breakfast,” went on Reff Ritter, as the three cronies walked down to the lake. “Jack Ruddy is going to get his sloop back soon, and he is going to arrange for a regular race with that new Pornell boat, the Ajax.”
“I hope he loses,” growled Coulter.
“Ditto here,” joined in Paxton.
“He will lose—if I have anything to do with it,” continued Ritter in a whisper, so as not to be overheard.
“What do you mean?” came from both of his followers.
“I mean just this, and I have no hesitation about telling you, for I expect you to stand by me. It will be a chance to get back some of the money we lost.”
“I think I see your plan,” said Coulter. “You want to fix it so Ruddy loses the race.”
“Exactly, and I think it will be dead easy, too.”