Part 6 (1/2)

”You will win,” said Harry, confidently. ”I shall try my best,” returned Jerry.

Si Peters and his friends smiled broadly whenever they came over to Lakeview.

”Jerry Upton won't be in it after the first quarter,” said they.

The race was to be a mile, half a mile each way, the turning point being a well-known rocky island scarcely fifty feet in diameter.

Jerry kept at his practice steadily until the great day for the race arrived.

CHAPTER VI.

THE SINGLE Sh.e.l.l RACE.

The race had been spoken of so much that Lakeview presented a holiday appearance.

All those who could, crossed over from Rockpoint, and many came from other places.

The lake was crowded with craft of all sorts, and even standing room along the sh.o.r.e was at a premium.

Even Farmer Upton grew interested.

”You must win that race, son,” he said. ”Not only for your own sake, but for the sake of the whole Lakeview district.”

And this made Jerry more determined to win than ever.

The race was not to come off until three o'clock in the afternoon. In the meanwhile there were half a dozen other contests, in which, however, the ma.s.ses took but small interest.

While one of these contests was going on, and Jerry was in the dressing room of the boathouse putting on his rowing rig, Harry came in excitedly.

”Jerry, you want to be on your guard,” he said in a low tone, so that those standing about might not hear.

”On guard? How?”

”Against Si Peters.”

”I don't understand.”

”From what I have overheard, I imagine there is a plot on foot to make you lose the race.”

”What sort of a plot?”

”I can't say.”

The young oarsman gazed at his chum in perplexity.

”What have you heard? I don't know what to make of this.”

”You know Wash Crosby?”