"It won't hurt us if they beat us," Kingdon returned. "It'll give us something to do for excitement, anyhow."
"I don't know that I can get our fellows to agree," Horace said slowly. It was the first speech Kingdon had ever heard him make that did not reek of self-confidence.
"You've got influence enough for that," Phillips told him. "Get 'em interested, and we'll keep 'em interested."
"I'll try," Pence promised.
Pence strolled over to the Walcott Hall camp in the morning, soon after breakfast, and signified his readiness to sail for Blackport.
When the Spoondrift was out of the cove and headed down the sound under her engine, the breeze being light, Phillips, the third member of the party, asked:
"All your fellows like the idea of rowing? How about Comas?"
"Didn't have any trouble with Ben, for a wonder," Pence answered with a lift of his lip. "Ben kind of likes himself in a boat, anyway. But Harry——"
"That's Kirby?" Kingdon put in carelessly, as Pence hesitated.
"He's always been a shark on boating," the black-eyed chap stated. "I fairly had to tease him to agree to this scheme. I don't know what's got into him. Didn't act like himself at all. Almost as sour as Joe Bootleg."