Kitobni o'qish: «The Young Oarsmen of Lakeview»
CHAPTER I.
JERRY, HARRY, AND BLUMPO
“I’ll race you.”
“Done! Are you ready?”
“I am.”
“Then off we go.”
Quicker than it can be related, four oars fell into the water and four sturdy arms bent to the task of sending two beautiful single-shell craft skimming over the smooth surface of the lake.
It was a spirited scene, and attracted not a little attention, for both of the contestants were well known.
“Go it, Jerry! You can beat him if you try!”
“Don’t let him get ahead, Harry. Keep closer to the shore!”
“How far is the race to be?”
“Up to the big pine tree and back.”
“That’s a full mile and more. I’ll bet on Jerry Upton.”
“And I’ll bet on Harry Parker. He has more skill than Jerry.”
“But Jerry has the muscle.”
“There they go, side by side!”
And thus the talking and shouting went on along the lake front. Most of the boys present were members of the Lakeview Boat Club, but there were others of the town there, too, as enthusiastic as the rest.
It was a clear, warm day in June. The summer holidays at the various institutes of learning in the vicinity had just begun, so many of the lads had nothing to do but to enjoy themselves.
There were not a few craft out besides the two shells to which we have drawn attention. But they drew out of the way to give the racers a free field.
On and on went Jerry and Harry until the big pine was reached. Then came the turn, and they started on the home stretch side by side, neither one foot ahead of the other.
“It’s going to be a tie race.”
“Pull, Harry! Let yourself out!”
“Show him what you can do, Jerry!”
Encouraged by the shouts of their friends, both boys increase their speed. But the increase on both sides was equal, and still the boats kept bow and bow as they neared the boathouse.
“It’s going to be a tie, sure enough.”
“Spurt a bit, Jerry!”
“Go it for all you’re worth, Harry!”
Again the two contestants put forth additional muscle, each to out-distance his opponent, and again the two row-boats leaped forward, still side by side.
As old Jack Broxton, the keeper of the boathouse, said afterward: “It would have taken twelve judges, sitting twelve days, to have told which had the advantage.”
The finishing point was now less than five hundred feet distant, and in a few seconds more the race would be over. The crowd began to stop shouting, almost breathless with pent-up interest. It was surely the prettiest race that had ever been rowed on Otasco Lake.
Splash!
The splash was followed by a splutter, and then a frantic cry for help. A portion of the high float in front of the boathouse had unexpectedly given way, and a short, stocky, reddish-black youth had gone floundering over board.
“Blumpo Brown has gone under.”
“It serves him right for standing away out on the edge of the float.”
“Help! Help!” cried the youth in the water.
“Hold on, Harry! Jerry, don’t run into me!”
Alarmed by the cries, the two racers turned around, easing up on their oars as they did so. A single glance showed them that the unfortunate one was directly in their path.
“We must stop!” cried Jerry Upton to his friend.
“All right; call it off,” responded Harry Parker. “It was a tie.”
As he finished, both shells drew up, one on either side of Blumpo Brown. Each of the rowers offered the struggling youth a helping hand.
Blumpo was soon clinging to Jerry’s shell. He was dripping from head to foot, and not being at all a handsomely-formed or good-looking youth, he presented a most comical appearance.
“It’s too bad I spoiled the race,” mumbled Blumpo. “But that’s just me – always putting my foot into it.”
“I guess you put more than your foot into it this time,” was Harry’s good-natured comment, as he ran close up alongside.
“Where shall I land you, Blumpo?” questioned Jerry Upton.
“Anywhere but near the boathouse,” returned Blumpo, with a shiver that was not brought on entirely by his involuntary bath. “If you land me there the fellows won’t give me a chance to get out of sight.”
“I’ll take you up the lake shore if you wish,” said Jerry. “I intended to go up anyway in a row-boat.”
“All right, Jerry, do that and I’ll be much obliged to you,” returned Blumpo Brown.
“You are going along, aren’t you, Harry?” continued Jerry, turning to his late rival.
“Yes, I want to stop at Mrs. Fleming’s cottage,” replied Harry Parker.
In a moment more Harry had turned his shell over to old Jack Broxton and had leaped into a row-boat.
“Ain’t you fellows going to try it over again?” asked several on the shore, anxiously.
“Not now,” returned Jerry. Then he went on to Harry, in a lower tone: “I didn’t expect to make a public exhibition of our little trial at speed, did you?”
“No; not at all. It was a tie, and let it remain so.”
Jerry soon left his shell; and then four oars soon took the row-boat far away from the vicinity of the shore; and while the three boys are on their way up the lake, let us learn a little more concerning them, especially as they are to form the all-important characters of this tale of midsummer adventures.
Jerry Upton was the only son of a well-to-do farmer, whose farm of one hundred acres lay just beyond the outskirts of Lakeview, and close to the lake shore. Jerry was a scholar at the Lakeview Academy, and did but little on the farm, although among the pupils he was often designated as Cornfield.
Harry Parker was the oldest boy in the Parker family, which numbered two boys and four girls. Harry’s father was a shoe manufacturer, whose large factory was situated in Lakeview, and at which nearly a fourth of the working population of the town found employment.
It had been a singular incident which had brought the two boys together and made them firm friends. Both had been out skating on the lake the winter before, when Harry had lost his skate and gone down headlong directly in the track of a large ice-boat, which was coming on with the speed of a breeze that was almost a hurricane.
To the onlookers it seemed certain that Harry must be struck and killed by the sharp prow of the somewhat clumsy craft. But in that time of extreme peril Jerry had whipped up like a flash on his skates, caught Harry by the collar, and literally flung himself and the boy, who was then almost a stranger to him, out of harm’s way.
This gallant deed of courage had been warmly applauded by those who saw it. It also came to Mr. Parker’s ears, and from that time on the rich shoe manufacturer took an interest in the farmer boy. He persuaded Mr. Upton to allow Jerry to attend the academy, and promised that the boy should have a good position in the office of the factory, should he wish it, when his school days were over.
Harry was already a pupil at the academy, and it was here that the two boys became warm friends. It was nothing to Harry that Jerry was a farmer’s boy and that he was sometimes called Cornfield. He knew and appreciated Jerry for his true worth.
And now what of Blumpo Brown, you ask? There is little to tell at this point of our story concerning that semi-colored individual. He was alone in the world, and had lived in Lakeview some ten years. Previous to that time his history was a mystery. Where he had come from no one knew, and if the truth was to be made known, no one but Blumpo himself cared. He was a very peculiar youth, often given to making the most ridiculous remarks, and many persons around Lakeview fancied he had considerable Indian blood in him. He lived in half a dozen places, according to the condition of his finances, and picked up his precarious existence by working for anyone who would employ him. He might have had a steady situation more than once, but it was not in Blumpo’s composition to stick at one thing for any great length of time. We will learn much more concerning him as our story proceeds.
CHAPTER II.
MRS. FLEMING’S RUNAWAY HORSE
“Well, now that the midsummer holidays have really commenced, what do you intend to do with yourself, Jerry?” asked Harry, as they took it easy for a bit after leaving the vicinity of the town.
“I expect I’ll have to help on the farm – at least, I think I ought to help,” was the reply. “You know this is the busy season.”
Harry’s face fell a little at this reply. Evidently something was on his mind, and this answer did not harmonize with it.
“I’ll tell you what I would like mighty well,” put in Blumpo. “I would like to leave town and take to the woods.”
“Why, Blumpo, you must have been reading my thoughts!” cried Harry. “I was thinking exactly the same thing.”
“Take to the woods?” repeated Jerry. “What do you mean? Clear out from home entirely?”
“No, no,” laughed Harry. “I mean to go off for awhile – say, two or three weeks or a month. Sail up the lake and camp out, you know.”
“Oh!” Jerry’s face took on a pleased look. “I would like that myself, especially if we could go fishing and swimming whenever we wanted to.”
“I’ve had it in my mind for several days,” Harry continued, slowly. “I was going to speak of it yesterday, but I didn’t get the chance.”
“You mean you want me to go with you?” asked Jerry.
“Yes. Don’t you think your folks would let you?”
“They might. Who else would go along, do you think?”
“I haven’t thought of anyone else. We might ask – ” and Harry hesitated in thought.
“What’s the matter with asking me?” put in Blumpo, with a serenity that took away the lack of politeness in his remark. “I’m just as tired of Lakeview as anybody.”
Harry burst out laughing. The idea of asking Blumpo had never once entered his mind.
“It ain’t nothing to laugh at,” went on Blumpo, half angrily.
“Excuse me, Blumpo,” said Harry, stopping short. “I – that is – I wasn’t thinking of you when I made the remark.”
“I’m not rich, nor eddicated, as you call it, and all that, but I can hunt and fish, and so on, as good as the next feller, can’t I?”
“You certainly can,” put in Jerry, who had for a long time had a strange liking for the homeless youth.
“And I am as willing as the next one to do my full share of camp work – washing dishes and the like,” went on Blumpo. “You ain’t cut out for that,” he added, turning to the son of the rich shoe manufacturer.
“Maybe not, but I reckon I can do my full share of work,” laughed Harry. “I was not brought up with kid gloves on, you know.”
“One thing is certain,” mused Jerry. “I wouldn’t want to leave until I had rowed that race with Si Peters from Rockpoint.”
The race to which Jerry referred was one to take place on the following Saturday. Silas Peters was considered the best single-shell oarsman on the lower side of the lake, and he had challenged Jerry as a representative from the Lakeview Academy.
“You’ll win that race, suah,” put in Blumpo. “I’ll bet my hat on it.”
As Blumpo’s hat was of straw and full of holes, this made both Jerry and his friend burst into a fit of laughter.
“I don’t mean this hat. I mean my Sunday-go-to-meetin’ one,” said the homeless youth, hastily.
“Blumpo, on your honor, did you ever own two hats at once?” asked Harry gravely.
“Well, since you buckle me down, no,” was the low reply. “What’s the use? Can’t wear but one at a time.”
“That’s as true as you live,” returned Jerry.
The three boys talked over the subject of an outing for some time. All thought it a glorious idea, and Jerry said he would go if he possibly could.
All this time Jerry and Harry were rowing up the lake at a moderate rate of speed. Jerry loved the water, and spent nearly all of his spare time in the vicinity of the lake.
Presently Harry grew tired and Blumpo took his place at the oars.
“Here comes the Cutwater!” cried Harry, a few minutes later.
The Cutwater was a large sloop owned by one of the gentlemen living in Lakeview. As she came past, those in the row-boat noticed several young ladies on board, who were sailing the boat under directions of a young man named Clarence Conant.
Clarence had but little idea how a boat should be managed, and as the sloop went by Harry’s face grew troubled.
“Jerry, what do you think of that?”
Jerry stopped rowing for a moment to look at the sloop.
“A good lot of sail up, especially if it should blow up stronger,” he said.
“Just what I think.”
“That Clarence Conant don’t know nuffin’ about sailing,” snorted Blumpo Brown. “The ladies better beware how they go out with him.”
“I agree with you, Blumpo,” said Jerry, gravely.
The sloop now disappeared from sight around a turn in the lake at which several islands were situated.
A few minutes later the row-boat drew up to a small dock at the end of a well-kept garden.
This was Mrs. Fleming’s place, where Harry intended to stop on an errand for his mother and father.
He sprang on the dock and hurried toward the house, saying he would not be gone more than five minutes.
The two boys waited for him to return, and during the interval Jerry caught sight of the Cutwater up the lake and watched her progress with interest. The wind was getting stronger and the sloop carried more sail than was good for her. Soon she again disappeared, and Jerry turned toward the house, wondering what kept Harry so long.
“Must have been invited to lunch,” was Blumpo’s comment. “Pity he didn’t ask us in, too.”
“No, he wouldn’t stay and leave us here,” replied Jerry, “Most likely – hullo!”
Jerry sprang up in the row-boat in amazement. Down the garden path leading from the front of the house to the dock came a beautiful black horse on a gallop. On the animal’s back sat a little girl not more than eight years of age. The horse was running away with her, and she was clinging tightly to his mane.
“Oh, John, stop him!” she screamed.
“Whoa, Banker, whoa!” shouted a man who came running after the animal.
But the horse, a nervous creature, was frightened over something and would not stop.
He clattered on the dock, and the next instant went over into the lake with a loud splash, carrying the little girl with him.
CHAPTER III.
JERRY’S BRAVERY
Blumpo was so scared by the accident that he uttered a short yell.
“Fo’ the lan’ sake,” he moaned, in a shaking voice.
The horse disappeared from sight for a brief space of time and then came up and began to churn the water madly in an endeavor to save himself from drowning.
The little girl was nowhere to be seen.
“She’ll be drowned,” thought Jerry, with rising horror.
At that moment a lady rushed from the house, followed by Harry. It was Mrs. Fleming.
“My child! my child!” she shrieked. “Save my Cora!”
Jerry waited to hear no more. At that moment the head of the little girl appeared directly by the horse’s side, and he made a clever dive from the row-boat and came up close to the child.
The girl was so bewildered that she simply beat the water in a helpless fashion, and this frightened the horse still more.
Swimming up behind the little one, Jerry caught her under the arms. It was a perilous thing to do, for Jerry was in great danger of having his brains dashed out by one of the horse’s hoofs.
“Good for you, Jerry!” shouted Harry.
“Look out for the hoss!” shouted the man. “He’ll kick you if he can!”
As rapidly as he could, Jerry swam out of the mad animal’s reach. It was difficult with the struggling girl in his arms, but at last he accomplished it, and willing hands helped him to the dock.
“My Cora! my Cora! is she dead?” cried Mrs. Fleming.
“No, she is more frightened than hurt,” returned Jerry. “Let us take her to the house.”
But before he could go a step, Mrs. Fleming clasped her girl in her arms and led the way.
Anxious to be of assistance, Jerry followed the lady, while Harry, Blumpo, and the hired man tried to rescue the horse, who was very valuable despite his nervousness.
A noose was made at the end of a rope, and this was thrown over the animal’s neck. Then the horse got one foot through the noose, and in this fashion they towed him to a spot where it was easy for him to wade out without assistance.
The hired man was very much put out, for it was his fault that the horse had run away. He led the animal around to the barn and gave him a good rubbing down.
Harry started for the house and met Jerry coming out.
“How is Cora?”
“She’s all right. Come on,” and Jerry brushed on toward the row-boat.
“Why, what’s your hurry, Jerry?”
The young oarsman blushed.
“Oh, I hate to stand around and receive thanks,” he said. “Mrs. Fleming wants to make a first-class hero of me and I – ”
“And that’s just what you are,” cried Harry.
“Indeed he is,” added Blumpo.
“Nonsense!” Jerry brushed them to one side.
“Come on!” and he made a run for the row-boat, and the others were compelled to follow.
“But your clothing is all wet,” insisted Harry, when they were seated in the craft.
“So is Blumpo’s,” returned Jerry.
“I’se most dry, the sun is that warm,” remarked the homeless youth.
“I don’t mind the wetting a bit,” said Jerry. “Rowing will keep me warm and the sun will dry me off quick enough.”
“You’re a regular water dog, anyway,” laughed Harry. He could not help but admire Jerry’s modesty in running away from Mrs. Fleming as soon as it was ascertained that little Cora was all right.
On and on up the lake the boys went. Inside of half an hour they came to a sheltered nook on one of the numerous islands.
“I move we take a swim,” said Harry.
“Second de emotion,” said Blumpo, and before Jerry could say a word the homeless youth was running about as if in the savage wilds.
It did not take Jerry and Harry long to disrobe. The plunge into the water was very pleasant, and they remained in bathing until Jerry’s clothing, spread out on the top of a number of bushes, was thoroughly dry.
In the meanwhile Jerry and Harry raced to another island and back. Jerry came out first, with Harry four yards behind.
The swim over, they dressed, and, after picking several handfuls of berries, which grew on the island in profusion, they once more embarked in the row-boat.
“Time to get back, boys,” said Jerry. “I promised to be home before dark.”
“So did I,” said Harry, “and we have several miles to go.”
“It don’t make no difference to me when I git back,” remarked Blumpo, dolefully.
“Don’t worry, Blumpo. Think of the good time we are going to have when we go camping,” said Jerry.
“And I must ask father for a regular situation for you when we come back from our outing,” added Harry.
“Will you?” and the homeless boy’s face brightened.
The wind had been increasing steadily, and now it blew so strongly that the whitecaps were to be seen in every direction.
“We’re going to have no easy time getting back,” said Jerry, with an anxious look on his manly face. “Maybe we may be caught in a hurricane.”
“It’s hot enough,” returned Harry. “Such oppressive heat generally means something.”
A mile was covered, and then the wind began to send the flying spray in every direction and filled the row-boat’s bottom with water.
“Wet again!” laughed Jerry, grimly. “Never mind.”
“Blumpo, you had better bail out the boat,” said Harry. He was as wet as the rest, but did not grumble.
While the homeless youth bailed out the water with a dipper they had brought along, Jerry and Harry pulled at the oars with all their remaining strength. Another mile was passed. But now it was blowing a regular hurricane and no mistake.
“We’ll go to the bottom, suah!” groaned Blumpo dismally.
“Not much!” shouted Jerry. “Keep on bailing.”
“Look! look!” yelled Harry at that moment, and pointed over to the centre of the lake.
There, beating up in the teeth of the wind in the most hap-hazard manner, was the Cutwater. Evidently Clarence Conant was nearly paralyzed with fear, for he had almost lost control of the craft.
“Those ladies on board are worse off than we,” went on Harry.
“That’s so,” replied Jerry.
But the words were hardly out of his mouth when there came an extra puff of wind. It sent the Cutwater almost over on her side, and threw a monstrous wave into the row-boat.
The smaller craft could not stand the wind and waves, and with a lurch, she sank down and went over, dumping all three of the youths into the angry lake.
CHAPTER IV.
SAVING THE SLOOP
It was no pleasant position to be in. The three lads had been cast so suddenly into the angry waters that for the moment they could not comprehend the situation.
Then Blumpo let out a yell of terror.
“Save me! De boat has gone down!”
He was wrong, however, for a second later the row-boat bobbed up, less than four yards off.
“This way!” shouted Harry to his companions, but the wind fairly drowned his voice. He swam toward the upturned craft, and Blumpo and Jerry were not slow in following it.
Hardly had they reached it when a new peril confronted them. The Cutwater was bearing directly down upon them. With every sail set, she was in the very act of cutting them to pieces!
“Look! look!” yelled Harry. “We are doomed!”
“My gracious!” moaned Blumpo.
On and on came the sloop, with gigantic bounds over the whitecaps. Clarence Conant seemed utterly powerless to stay her course, or steer her to the right or left.
The young ladies on board with him huddled in a heap near the tiny cabin, their faces white with terror.
It was truly a thrilling moment.
Of the entire crowd Jerry was the only one to keep perfectly cool.
He was astride the row-boat, directly in the centre of the bottom, and it seemed as if the prow of the Cutwater must strike him in a second more.
“Every one dive under!” he called out, and went overboard like a flash.
For a wonder Harry and Blumpo promptly followed suit.
Crash!
The row-boat was struck and stove in completely.
The Cutwater was quite a good-sized craft, and though the force of the collision did not damage her to any extent, it checked her progress considerably.
Jerry went down and down. He made a long dive, and when he came up it was within a yard of the sloop’s rudder.
Before another boy would have had time to think, the boy who so loved the water made up his mind what to do. He made a mighty leap and caught hold of the rudder end ere the Cutwater could get beyond his reach.
It was hard work to hang on, as the sloop bobbed up and down with every wave, and the rudder, being beyond control, swayed from side to side.
But Jerry was both plucky and full of grit. He clung fast, and, watching his chance, climbed up to the stern and leaped on the deck.
A brief glance showed him the cause of the present trouble. Clarence Conant was actually too much frightened to lower the sails. He had started to act and got a rope twisted, and then, overcome with fear, had allowed the matter to go while he clung to the bow in despair.
“You confounded coward!” cried the young oarsman. “You ought to have known better than to go out on anything bigger than a duck pond.”
He sprang to the halyards, and soon the main-sail came down with a bang. The jib followed. There was no time to attend to the sails more than this.
Jerry looked around anxiously for Harry and Blumpo, but for a long while could see nothing of them.
“Look here,” demanded Clarence Conant, recovering his composure, now the greatest of the danger was over. “What – ah – do you mean by talking to me in this fashion?”
“I mean just what I say,” retorted Jerry. “You had no right to take these young ladies out and expose them to such peril.”
“The – ah – hurricane took me by surprise,” was the dude’s lame excuse.
“I am very thankful to you, Jerry Upton,” cried Dora Vincent, the oldest and prettiest of the girls on board.
“And so am I.”
“And I.”
“Thank you,” replied the boy, blushing. “But now is no time to talk. Which of you will take the tiller, if I tell you exactly what to do?”
“I can – ah – take the tiller,” interposed Conant, haughtily.
“You won’t touch it!” cried the young oarsman, sternly.
“Why, boy, what do you mean? Do you – ah – ”
“Sit down! If you dare to stir I’ll pitch you overboard!”
Overcome with a new terror, the dude collapsed. He was hatless, the curl was out of his mustache and hair, and altogether he looked very much “washed out.”
He sank down near the bow, and it was well that he did so, for just then came an extra heavy blast of the gale.
“Hold hard, every one!” yelled Jerry. “Perhaps you ladies had better go into the cabin,” he added.
“I am to take the tiller, you know,” said Dora Vincent.
“Well, then, let the others go. We can work along better with a clear deck.”
So while Dora went aft, the others crawled into the cabin, or cuddy. Under pretense of seeing after their comfort, Conant crawled after them.
“Now I will tell you just how to move the tiller,” said Jerry to Dora Vincent.
“All right, I am ready,” responded the brave girl.
Now that she had Jerry with her, and knowing he was well acquainted with boats, she felt that she was safe, no matter how bad the storm might prove itself.
After giving the girl some instructions Jerry hoisted the main-sail a few feet only. The sloop then swung around and moved in a beating way against the storm.
Jerry wished to learn what had become of his companions. He was fearful that they had been drowned.
It took quite some time to reach the vicinity where the accident had occurred, and even then but little was to be seen through the driving rain.
“Hullo, Harry! Blumpo!” he called out.
No answer came back and he repeated the cry a dozen times. Then he fancied he heard a response directly ahead. The sloop was moved cautiously in the direction, and presently they saw Blumpo clinging to part of the shattered row-boat.
“Sabe me! sabe me!” yelled the youth. “Don’t let me drown, Jerry.”
“Catch the rope, Blumpo!” cried Jerry in return, and threw forward the end of a coil.
Blumpo clutched the rope eagerly, and then it was comparatively easy to haul him on board.
“Praise de Lawd!” he muttered fervently as he came on deck. “I t’ought I was a goner, suah!”
“Where is Harry?”
“I can’t tell you, Jerry.”
“You haven’t seen him since we jumped from the row-boat?”
“No.”
The young oarsman’s face grew sober. What if their chum had really gone to the bottom of Lake Otasco? It would be awful to tell Harry’s parents that their son was no more.
“We must find him, dead or alive, Blumpo. Take the tiller from Miss Vincent, and we’ll cruise around, with our eyes and ears wide open,” said Jerry, with determination.
