"When?" inquired Fred quickly.
"Oh, I guess I've been over two or three times. I've been asking some questions about those men that run the Varmint II."
"What did you find out about them?" inquired both boys eagerly.
"Accordin' to what I heard they aren't much good."
"What do you mean?"
"Why, I think they are a tough lot," said Sam, shaking his head. "The two fellows that own the boat are both of them sons of very rich men, who give them all the money they want to use. It hasn't done the youngsters any good, I guess, from what I heard. They bought the motor-boat expecting that there wouldn't be anything on the river that could touch her. They say they are pretty sore now that they have found that there is a boat which may give them a hard rub and perhaps take the cup away from them after all."
"Sam, if you win that race for us--" began Fred eagerly.
"I'm not going to win your race," broke in Sam. "I've heard you say that you're going to do the steering yourself and if you are, why the only thing I can do is to be a sort of court of appeals. I'll be there to help you out if something goes wrong. Now, we're up against a pretty serious proposition. Those fellows are bound to win that race and if they can't win it one way they are goin' to win it another."
"I don't see how they can win, Sam, if they don't go faster than we do."
"Maybe they can win," suggested Sam, "if we go slower than they do."