“He’s right.”
“He isn’t.”
“I saw it myself.”
“Well, you ought to have your eyes seen to.”
These, and a hundred other argumentative remarks, filled the air, but, of course, like most such outbursts, they had no effect on the referee’s decision. There was a glowering, angry look on Freeman Hunt’s face, though, as the two boats changed bases for the next heat.
“We’ll get you this trip,” he grated, as the Eagle’s boat scraped past his craft.
“Say, Hunt, you’re an awful bad loser,” piped up the corpulent Tubby, winking at the others.
“Oh, I am, am I, you tub of lard. Just you wait. We’ll show you. You may have got that heat by a technical decision, but we’ll beat you fair and square this time.”
“Well, we’re both here to try just that,” Rob reminded the angry boy, as the boats bumped and passed.
“The second of the three heats is now on!” bellowed the announcer through his megaphone.