Therefore, if any craft appeared like theirs at the regatta they could be sure that the lost plans had been made use of.
“And if anybody’s guilty,” declared Billy Speedwell, “it’s Barry Spink. He is crowing to the other fellows that he’s got us beaten already, and he won’t let anybody look into that shed behind his mother’s barn where the boat is being built.”
“If he’s doing it all himself, I’m not afraid,” chuckled Dan. “Not if he had our plans fifty times over.”
“But he isn’t. There is a foreigner working there—I’ve seen him. He is a mechanic Mrs. Spink hired in the city, Wiley Moyle says, and they’re paying him eight dollars a day.”
“Ow! that hurts!”
“I believe it’s true, just the same,” said Billy. “Spink has got his heart set on beating us.”
“If that’s the price he’s paying for it, he really ought to win,” returned the older lad. “Eight dollars a day—gee!”
The Speedwell family—down to little Adolph—were vastly interested in the new boat. Finally, when it came time to put it together, the question of naming the craft came to the fore.
Naming the Fly-up-the-Creek had been something of an inspiration; but now they all wanted a hand in the christening of Dan’s new invention. The matter was so hotly discussed that Mrs. Speedwell suggested finally drawing lots for the name.
One evening as they sat around the reading lamp each member of the family wrote his or her choice on a slip of paper (’Dolph printed his in big, up-and-down letters) and then the papers were shaken up in a bowl.