“All right. Here comes Mr. Garabrant in his launch. Possibly he may be glad to give us a tow.”
Frank, as he spoke, kept his eyes on the face of the man who had charge of the motor. He felt positive he saw a sudden look of keen disappointment come upon it, though Abner, upon noticing that he was being observed, tried to look pleased.
“He did it, I’m dead certain!” was what Frank was saying to himself, as a thrill of indignation passed over his frame.
He could stand honest defeat, but when trickery was brought into play it made him angry. At the same time he did not dream for a moment that any one on the opposing team could have had a hand in this mess.
Herman Hooker immediately got his megaphone into service.
“Ahoy there, Mr. Garrabrant! Will you kindly head this way?” he shouted.
The other launch immediately changed its course and approached. There was quite a little company aboard, and evidently the party was headed for the athletic field of Bellport, to witness the great game.
“What’s wrong here?” asked the gentlemanly owner, as he stood up, the better to see.
“A breakdown, and we have really no time to monkey with repairs. Could you give us a tow, sir?” asked Frank.
“Only too glad, boys. It’s very evident that unless I do there would be small chance for a game to-day. Hand us a painter, and we’ll make fast to a cleat at our stern,” replied the Columbia business man, readily.