"They're from Riverview," put in a rower. "Can't you tell by their sweaters?"
"Well, all I've got to say," went on the coxswain, "is that you fellows ought to stay off this part of the river until you know how to row. You've broken one of our oars and maybe damaged our shell. Why don't you keep near shore until you know how to handle a boat?"
"Yes, and it was my best oar, too," wailed the bow rower ruefully as he gazed at the splintered sweep.
"We ought to duck them!" exclaimed the rower front of him. "It would serve 'em right."
This tirade and abuse had been heaped up so quickly on Andy and Frank that they had not had time to reply to it. But they were far from going to sit still and take it all calmly.
"Look here!" exclaimed Frank, as he held the old tub steady with slow sweeps of the oars, "you fellows may think you own the river, but you don't."
"We have as much right on it as you have," added Andy.
"Hear 'em talk!" jeered the coxswain.
"And what's more," continued the elder Racer lad, "it was as much your fault as ours."
"How do you make that out?" asked a rower amidships.