“You, if you like,” shouted Pilbury and Cusack.
“I’ll knock your heads together when I catch you,” said Wyndham, with lofty disgust, not intending to put himself out for two juniors.
A loud laugh greeted the threat.
Meanwhile, fellows were running up every moment. Some who had been waiting for the boats at the winning-post had only just heard the news, and came in red-hot with excitement to learn particulars.
“It’s all a vile dodge,” howled Wibberly, “to get their boat to the head of the river.”
“I’ll bet anything the precious captain’s at the bottom of it,” shouted another. “He’d stick at nothing, I know.”
“Yes, and you’ll see, now they’ll funk another race!”
“Who’ll funk another race?” roared the hot-headed Wyndham. “I’ll row you myself, you asses, the lot of you.”
Another derisive laugh followed at the speaker’s expense.
“It’s not our fault if your line broke,” cried a schoolhouse boy. “It’s your lookout. You should have seen it was right before you started.”