"That's what he says," was the reply.
Kingdon added nothing to what he had already said until finally, with a sigh dismissing the puzzle for the time being, Pence offered him the letter he had received from the skipper of the Nothing To It. "What do you think of this?" Horace asked.
Kingdon read the challenge with as much apparent interest as though the matter was an utter surprise to him. It was plain that Pence was nervous—a nervousness not attributable to their former topic of conversation.
"The nerve of them!" said Kingdon. "They've been rowing together all season, and we're just beginning to get our crowd into shape."
"But we can't refuse," Pence hastened to say.
"No," Rex agreed.
"But—but—Kingdon! Suppose they lick us out of our boots?"
"What's the odds? It'll show the boys just about how bad—or good we are."
"It will discourage them if we're beaten," Pence said. "Haven't practiced enough to make sure of giving a good account of ourselves."
"Never know how good we are till we try a race with a real crew, and Yansey's got the best one along the coast—let him tell it."