But what of the winners of the great race? As the Winner shot over the finish line, not a cheer greeted her, and her owners, seeing only hostile looks on the faces of the crowd, never stopped, but kept on down the lake.
"Confound it," muttered Fred, "I guess we've botched things again."
"Well, it's all your fault," growled Will, "I told you to stop."
"I know you did, but I thought some of the other boats behind would be near enough to pick them up, and I didn't want to lose the race."
"It seems, though, that we didn't exactly cover ourselves with glory by winning," said Will grimly.
"I don't know why it is," argued Fred, "but it seems to me that those Golden boys are always getting the better of us. I wonder why it is that they are so much more popular than we? We have just as much money, if not more, than they."
As is usually the case, these boys could not see that it was their own selfish dispositions which was the cause of their unpopularity.
In a little over twenty minutes the Sprite was at the "Roost's" boathouse, and soon the merry party had landed and carried the baggage to the cottage. The boys, having put on dry clothing, proposed to the girls that a game of tennis would be a good way to pass the time while supper was being prepared, and soon Bob and May were contesting every point with Jack and Edna.
That night, after the rest of the family had retired, the two boys sat by the window, in their room, talking over the events of the day.
"Say, old man," Bob suddenly said, "I didn't like the looks of those fellows we caught in the Sprite this afternoon. Sure as guns they were trying to find out all they could about that motor. They didn't act right when they saw us."