"There are only two things to do," Wallace told them. "You must increase the number of strokes and put more power in them. Then you'll win."
It sounded easy to say, but it was hard to do, as they seemed already to be pulling to the limit of their strength and endurance. But they found that they could do better, and soon, though muscles, wind and heart made a trio of protests, they knew they were coming nearer the time made by their rivals.
"I think you'll do," said Wallace at length. "Of course I don't mean to say you're as fast as those fellows, but you're in their class, and I think, in the time left, you can come up to them. I believe you can beat them, barring accidents."
"What, do you mean by accidents?" asked Andy.
"Well, you know our shell isn't very good. The outriggers are old and two of the oars are split. Something may break."
"Then we'll strengthen things!" exclaimed Frank, and for several nights after that he and his chums worked over the shell. They finally decided that they could do no more, and that it would have to serve.
"But if we win this race, we'll have a new shell next year!" declared Frank determinedly.
The time for the race was drawing near. In a week Waterside was to row Milton, and then, after a few days' rest, would take on Riverview. This would mark the closing of the season on the river. Incidentally our heroes and their chums learned that the race with themselves was regarded more or less as a joke.
"Well, we'll show 'em that it isn't!" declared Andy hotly. "I'm going to beat 'em now, or bust an oar."
"Don't do that!" cried Frank quickly. "We haven't any oars to spare. Just beat 'em."