Harry Watson's High School Days: or, The Rivals of Rivertown

“Then you think the Lightning is apt to go some?” inquired the owner, eagerly.

“Do I?” echoed Harry, quickly. “Unless I’m away off in my judgment, she’s bound to beat everything along the river. I never saw such fine lines; and best of all, I don’t think the builder has sacrificed anything in the way of staunchness to speed. Mark my word, Paul, she’s going to turn out a crackerjack!”

“I’m mighty glad to hear that, Harry!” declared Paul, “for a good many reasons. A fellow likes to have a clipper boat, you know, one that isn’t going to take dust from any other chap’s racer. And then, it would just give me heaps of fun if I could leave the old Glider far back in the lurch.”

“That’s Elmer’s iceboat, isn’t it?” asked Harry.

“Sure. He hasn’t had it out this winter, I understand, because for two years now it’s just run away from everything there was; and Elmer said he was tired of making circles around the rest of us. But three times now he’s asked me when I expected to get my new boat running; and as much as told me he was waiting to add it to the has-beens he’s beaten.”

“Well, don’t you believe he’s going to have an easy job walking away from this dandy thing on runners,” Harry observed. “I’m ready to say that you’ve got the very last word in iceboats here in the Lightning. And before another hour has passed you’ll feel that you made no mistake when you gave her that name. Now, if you’re ready, let’s make a start.”

Harry was anxious to be off. He had noticed that several boys and girls were heading toward them, having skated up from below. And in his present state of mind he would rather avoid meeting any of his school companions if it could be arranged.

“How about the wind?” asked Paul, as they started to take their places on the thin but strong planks of the iceboat, which had been padded with folded blankets, so as to make it more comfortable for those who had to stretch out at full length while managing the running craft.

“It seems to be everything we could want this morning,” Harry replied. “In fact, I don’t think there ever was a day here on the Conoque River better fitted for a try-out of a new iceboat than this same Saturday morning. And I’m glad now that I came with you, Paul.”

“Bully for you, Harry! That’s all I wanted to hear. And now, let’s cut loose before all those fellows get in our way.”

Longback, Socker Gales, and Misery Jones were among those coming full tilt for the spot where they had discovered the new boat on the river’s edge.

They gave vent to various whoops and cries when they saw that Paul and Harry were starting off without waiting for their arrival.

“Hi! aint you goin’ to let us have a look-in at the new boat, before you smash her with that Jonah aboard?”

“Listen, Paul! Just you keep right on up the river, and my word for it you’ll get yours before you come back!”

“Wow! look at her go, would you? Say, fellers, she’s all to the mustard, you c’n tell me what you please about the Glider. Paul knew what he was doing when he gave the order for that dandy contraption. Gee! don’t I wish I was on her right now!”

These last words just barely reached the ears of the two who lay flattened out on the delicate flooring of the ice yacht. Harry heard his chum chuckling, as if somehow the last remark had given him a good feeling.

The skaters started after them, but were speedily left far behind, and presently gave the chase up as useless. And now the whole river lay before the two iceboat chums, with not a single person to interfere with their sport; since it was as a rule farming country above Rivertown, on both sides of the watercourse.

Few rivers offered better fields for this sport than the Conoque. While not of any great depth, it was as a rule quite wide; and in places presented a magnificent spread of smooth, clear ice, over which the sharp runners glided like magic, as the favoring breeze filled their sail, and urged them on at tremendous speed.

Then again, once in a while they would come to a neck where the going was quite different, since the ice was rougher, and they had to look out for airholes. In the Summer season, when the water was lower, these places were called the “rips”; being in reality small rapids, where the water rushed with noisy volume, and the fishing was considered prime.

“Well, what d’ye think of that?” called out Paul, after they had been booming along in this manner for a little while, passing a couple of the narrow places, where considerable care had to be exercised to avoid trouble.

“Splendid! Never went like this before! You’ve got a wonder here, Paul, and don’t you forget it,” answered Harry, whose face was now rosy with the action of the keen wind and the cold air; while his eyes sparkled much as they had been wont to do before this trouble came upon him, to crush his young spirits so completely.

“That pleases me a whole lot, Harry,” laughed the owner of the craft. “And say, I’ve been watching the way you handle that tiller. Elmer Craven boasts of being the best iceboat sailor on the river; but I’m ready to put you up against him any old day. Why, you manage things so that she seems to be next door to human. No matter what sort of wind strikes us, you’ve got a way of setting her with it, that just suits every time. If this boat’s a wonder, Harry, you’re the fellow that can get every ounce of speed out of her.”

“Here, that will do for you, Paul,” answered Harry; though naturally the words of genuine praise made him feel happy, as he had been up against so many hard knocks lately, at the hands of those who bore him so much ill will. “I’d just like to try her against some other boat of the same class. That’s the only way to get a pointer on her speed and cleverness, you know.”

“Perhaps we may, and this very morning,” remarked Paul, mysteriously, but with a grin accompanying the words.

“What makes you say that?” demanded his companion, who had to keep his eyes on the alert pretty much all the time, since a flaw of wind might swoop down on them at any second, and if he failed to be quick with the rudder, in order to ease up on the sudden strain, an upset was likely to follow.

“Didn’t you hear what Misery Jones shouted after us?” Paul went on, answering one question, Yankee fashion, by asking another.

“Was it Misery who called out for you to listen; and then said something about you ‘getting yours’ if you kept on up the river?” Harry continued.

“Sure, that was Misery. He’s never so happy as when acting as a prophet, and predicting all sorts of trouble ahead for other people. That’s why the boys call him Misery; he sees all kinds of accidents looming up, even if they hardly ever come along. But Harry, I don’t think the fellow had any accident in store for us that time, when he said I would get mine up here to-day.”

“Then what did he have in mind?” asked Harry, his curiosity aroused.

“I’ve been thinking it over,” Paul went on, “and decided that Misery must know Elmer is out this morning with his Glider; and somewhere up-river way. What he meant was that if we happened to run across his hawser, I would find my new iceboat as badly left in the lurch as my old one was last year.”

“Perhaps,” laughed the one who handled the tiller so dexterously; “all things are possible, you know, Paul; but I wouldn’t worry over that, if I were you. Just let Elmer show up, and we’ll see what the Lightning was built for.”

“There’s a bunch of fellows coming down the river,” said Paul, a minute later. “They live some miles up at a village called Rushville. Several of our high school scholars come down from there every day on the train, you know. I was going to say that if we could shut off some of our tremendous speed, and draw in closer to them, I might find out whether Elmer really did go up-river.”

“All right,” responded Harry, readily; “that’s easy enough done.”

He manipulated the tiller, and watched the way the wind spilled out of the big sail as he ran partly across the ice field, heading so as to intercept the skaters. These boys, seeing that those on the fine new iceboat wished to speak with them, only too gladly came to a standstill, and watched the clever way in which Harry managed to bring his craft up in the teeth of the wind close beside them.

“Hello! Paul, that your new boat?” cried one of the up-river fellows, as he advanced to get a closer look at the now still Lightning. “Well, I must say she’s got lines to go some, and then not half try. Give you my word I never saw such a trim and dandy iceboat; and I wish I had a chance to take a spin on her with you.”

“Perhaps you may, some of these fine days, Hank,” remarked Paul with a grin; for he had always been friendly with the Rushville student at school. “Just now we’re out on the warpath, looking for scalps, you see, and want to be on the fly.”

The three boys looked at each other as though hardly catching the true meaning of what Paul said. But a moment later Hank laughed aloud as the significance of the words appealed to him.

“Ho! I get it all right now, Paul!” he exclaimed, nodding his head while speaking. “You want to find something to whack your new boat up against, eh? Well, what’s the matter with the Glider? Elmer didn’t do a thing to you last winter, if I remember right; and the spirit of revenge must be rankling in your heart. Is that it?”

“Perhaps a little that way,” answered Paul, frankly. “You know he’s got a nasty way of rubbing it in every time he does anything; that stings worse than the defeat itself does. I’ve never heard the last of that race, and how nicely he trimmed me. And to tell the honest truth, that was why I went to all the trouble and expense of having this new craft built to order. I want to turn the tables on him in the worst way.”

“Couldn’t have a better day for it!” nodded Hank.

“Oh! the weather is all to the good,” declared Paul, impatiently; “but see here, you fellows have come down several miles – have you seen anything of another iceboat between here and Rushville?”

“Have we, fellows?” asked Hank, turning to his two companions and winking. “Was that a real iceboat that went whipping past us just after we started out; or might it have been just a shadow when a cloud passed over the sun? Yes, I rather guess it did look like the sassy thing Elmer used to cut circles with around all the other boats on the river last two years.”

“Which way were they going did you say?” asked Paul, giving his chum a significant look, as if to say: “What did I tell you; didn’t I remark that this was going to be a red letter day with me, since it would wipe out the sting of that old defeat at the hands of Elmer Craven, which I’ve never heard the last of?”

“Oh! up-river like a streak of light,” replied Hank. “No use talking, that Glider can go to beat the Dutch; and Elmer knows how to sail her too, the best ever; but I like the looks of this new craft, Paul, and from the way Harry handles the tiller I opine now that you’re just bound to give Elmer the time of his life when you challenge him to a race.”

“That’s what we intend to do, Hank,” returned Paul. “Much obliged for telling us about him. We can keep going now till we scrape his acquaintance. He’s been begging me for some time to get out and let him rub some of the rust from his runners. To-day suits me all right. And Hank, mark my words, the thirteenth of the month, you notice, is going to be a mighty unlucky day for Elmer Craven, if I don’t miss my guess. It’s skidoo for him, as sure as you’re born. So-long, boys!”

Harry threw the sail around and immediately the Lightning shot away with a sudden bound. They opened a big gap between themselves and the three boys standing there on the ice; but Paul, looking back could see Hank and his comrades waving their caps and sending out cheers that came but faintly to the ears of those who were speeding so rapidly up the river.

As a rule the Conoque ran due north and south, though there were places where abrupt turns were the exception. And as the breeze was almost due west this allowed of almost unlimited possibilities in sailing, with a craft so sensitive to the slightest breath of air as an iceboat on a smooth, mirror-like surface.

It took them but a short time to reach and pass the village of Rushville, situated on the left bank of the Conoque River. Of course quite a number of persons were enjoying the skating at this point; and the moment the Lightning came into view around the bend half a mile below, loud shouts attested to the interest taken in her appearance.

Again did Harry slow up, as Paul wished to ask questions of these boys. The news received was to the effect that some time before Elmer and Pud Snooks had passed up, and incidentally come near running over a little child, as they purposely swung in as if to show just how close they could come to anyone without hitting them. The Rushville boys were quite indignant, and talking about it when the second iceboat hove in sight.

“On again, Harry,” sang out Paul, after they had learned all they wanted to know. “We’ll run across them somewhere above; and perhaps Elmer Craven will be in for the surprise of his life. Somehow I just feel that this is my day; and I want to make the most of it. Let her go, fellows; and thank you for telling us.”

Harry had for the time being quite forgotten all about his troubles; and this was just what his chum desired most of all. Indeed, perhaps it was more to accomplish this than anything else that he sought a meeting with Elmer; though, of course, boy-like, he did want to even the old score, and pay up his debt.

“You’ve never been up this far before, I reckon?” he remarked, after they had left Rushville several miles behind.

“That’s a fact, Paul,” came the reply. “And I never dreamed that the Conoque was such a dandy stream for this sort of thing. Why, in places it’s fully a quarter of a mile from bank to bank. Yes, I’m glad I’ve come with you, Paul.”

“And perhaps you’ll be more than glad before the morning passes,” Paul was saying to himself; for he knew just how matters stood between Harry and Elmer; and that if they could manage to humiliate the proud, boastful spirit of the rich man’s son, it must be more or less of a satisfaction to Harry.

Two minutes later and Paul gave vent to a cry.

“Look yonder!” he exclaimed. “A mile ahead the Cranberry flows into the Conoque; and unless my eyes deceive me there’s an iceboat coming whooping down that smaller stream. Yep, that’s the Glider, as sure as anything. I ought to know her build; and Harry, get ready now to show them a streak of greased lightning!”

CHAPTER XXIV – HARRY PILOTS THE LIGHTNING

“So that’s Elmer’s boat, is it?” remarked Harry, as he managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of the tall mast of a rapidly moving craft, that was sweeping down the ice covered tributary of the Conoque, now partly hidden behind a clump of trees, and again passing a fairly open spot.

“Head in so as to be ready to follow after him, whichever way he turns,” advised Paul, his voice betraying signs of excitement; for he had been looking forward to this same meeting for many weeks, and anticipating the pleasures of turning the tables on his boasting rival of long standing.

But Harry seemed as cool as though there were nothing at stake. He had schooled himself to repress his feelings when a great emergency arose, calling for calm judgment, as well as quick action.

“I think I’ve got the course we want,” he remarked, quietly, as the Lightning bore well in toward the shore, just below the junction of the two rivers. “I don’t dare pass too far in, because you see that high bank, and the bunch of trees, interfere with the wind, and we’d get blanketed. There they come, Paul!”

Shooting out from the Cranberry like a thing of life, the rival iceboat made a graceful sweep and continued up the river.

“They did that on purpose!” cried Paul, as though a bit disgusted at the turn affairs had taken. “Let him say what he will, I believe Elmer is afraid of this boat. He came and examined her the day I rigged her up; and although he pretended to laugh, I could just see that he was chewing the rag. Yes, look at Pud waving his hand at us; and he’s shouting something too.”

“All right,” said Harry, without the least show of worry; “we’ve got our work cut out for us, that’s all. You know something about the river above; can we run any distance with the boats?”

“Sure!” answered the other member of the crew; “it’s the most obliging old river you ever heard tell of. Miles and miles it stretches away, sometimes narrow, and again broad; but if this wind only holds out, we can spin along like fun for more’n an hour. Hit her up, Harry, let’s see just what the bully contraption carries up her sleeve. After ’em with a hot stick now!”

Really, Harry needed no urging. The spirit of sport had been fully aroused in his breast. Forgotten for the time being, were all those grim troubles that had of late been making life so miserable for the boy. He only seemed to remember that once more his hand grasped the tiller of a staunch ice flier; and that a derisive challenge had floated back from the boat ahead.

And possibly, the fact that the two fellows who manned the Glider were his most bitter and unscrupulous enemies, had more or less to do with Harry’s determination to beat the rival boat. He would not have been human had he felt otherwise; and while Harry possessed many fine attributes, he was after all, only a boy at heart.

The Lightning had, of course, lost considerable of her headway when the skipper ran in so close to the high bank; but she was gradually veering further away now, with every second.

On the other hand, the opposing boat had come out of the Cranberry under a full sail; and shifting her course, was running up the Conoque with a speed that opened quite a gap between the rival craft.

Then in turn Harry and Paul saw that they were getting opposite the mouth of the smaller stream, where the wind would be wholly unobstructed. No sooner had this occurred than they jumped ahead as though some unseen power had taken the boat in tow.

“How about it now?” asked the skipper, wishing to have Paul report progress; as he had about all he could do in taking care of the skimming ice craft, watching how the wind acted on the sail, keeping a cautious eye out for any obstruction in the way of a branch of a tree frozen in the ice, or possibly an air hole which, if not avoided, might spell disaster to the pursuing boat.

“We are sure holding our own, Harry!” exclaimed Paul, delightedly.

That was an experience new to him; for up to now the Glider had mocked all efforts to equal her extraordinary speed. But Harry knew that, as yet, he had not put the new boat to her “best licks,” as he termed it. She was capable of better things.

This was just the time and opportunity for one who knew all about the tricks which an iceboat is capable of developing, to coax her to show her fine points; and that was what Harry was now starting to do.

Perhaps the boats were about equal in merit. Possibly, had the crews been reversed, Harry and Paul could have overtaken the Lightning, given time with the older craft. In other words, it was a case of superior knowledge and ability on the part of the skipper of the Lightning, rather than the possession of a better boat; for the Glider was certainly what she had always been called, a “marvel.”

“Wow! we’re gaining, I do believe, Harry!” announced Paul, a minute later; and there was a touch of actual doubt in his voice, as though the fact might be almost too good to be true.

“Are we?” answered his chum, just as though it were nothing more than he had been expecting right along.

“Yes, as sure as anything we must be,” Paul went on excitedly. “I’m trying to judge distances with my eye; and honest now, I believe we’re not so far behind as when we first passed the mouth of the Cranberry! Oh! it’s great! Keep her moving just as she is, Harry! Do you think you can? That wasn’t only a spurt, I hope!”

“She can do even better than that, Paul. Watch me now, for I’m on to a new little dodge. Keep an eye for blow-holes, and branches frozen in the ice. And Paul, shift your weight just a trifle this way. I believe the balance will be more even.”

Another short interval followed. Then Paul gave vent to his delight again.

“You did something then that just made her hump herself. Why, Harry, we’re clawing up on the old Glider hand over fist! Look at ’em moving around, will you? They’re getting scared, that’s what! Elmer never yet saw another boat creeping up after him when he was doing his level best to fly. Bully! Bully! Oh, ain’t we just humming along, though!”

It was no easy matter to speak while they were cutting through space at such a tremendous pace and Paul would have done better to have saved his breath; but he had waited and hoped for this great day so long, that he just could not bottle up his delight.

Not a sound could they hear around them save the whistle of the wind through the ropes above, or the sharp humming music of the runners spurning the smooth ice. Pud had long since ceased to shout derisive cries back at the pursuers. His scorn and mocking gestures had changed into nervous movements, as he tried to increase the speed of the Glider by altering his position from time to time.

When another five minutes had passed, though it seemed an hour to the impatient Paul, they had gained so much upon the other boat that the two were now within easy speaking distance. Yet strange to say, those on the Glider maintained a dead silence, that was quite unusual to their buoyant natures. It makes considerable difference whether one is on a winning or a losing craft.

Paul, however, could not keep still. This experience almost set him wild with delight. And where could you find a boy who would decline to rub it in a little, given the chance?

“Hey! you there!” he hallooed, using his hands as a megaphone; “get out of the way, and give us room. We’re going to pass you, and let you take our dust! Sheer off to one side, and let us have the middle of the river! We’ve earned the right of way. Lively now, Elmer! You’re a back number after this, with your out-of-date boat! To the scrap heap for yours!”

Perhaps it was hardly kind of Paul to add to the humiliation which Elmer must naturally be feeling, as he thus saw that the Glider was plainly playing “second fiddle” to the new iceboat; but it must be remembered that for years now, the son of the richest man in Rivertown had lost no opportunity to sneer at Paul, and humiliate him when he had the chance.

Apparently the two who crouched there on the Glider were at their wits’ ends to discover some means for increasing their speed. They seemed to be exchanging warm sentences, and Harry even thought he heard Elmer’s rasping voice raised in anger, as though he might be trying to lay the burden of the blame on the bully, whose extra weight might be just the cause for the difference in speed of the two boats.

Pud could also be heard answering back, and it sounded as though he were telling his comrade that the fault lay in his lack of skill in managing the Glider, rather than the handicap of weight.

“Can we pass ’em, d’ye think?” gasped Paul, as they drew still closer to the leading boat, on which a dead silence had now fallen.

“Easy enough, unless Elmer chooses to play some trick on us,” replied Harry.

“Oh! would he dare do that, when we’re spinning along at this mad clip?” demanded the owner of the new boat.

“You know him better than I do, Paul,” replied Harry. “I don’t like the look on his face. He keeps turning his head, then grinning in a nasty way; after which he looks ahead, just as if he was sizing up some desperate chance. I think he means to foul us up if he can; and anyhow it’s going to be a hard thing to pass him up here, where nobody can see any dirty play.”

Paul seemed to consider. No doubt discretion urged him to call the race off; but on the other hand he disliked very much to quit just when he had his rival where he had wanted to see him so long.

A fisherman never calls a trout his own until he has the prize in his hands; even though he may humanely throw the speckled beauty back into the water again. And in a race it does not really count, unless you actually pass your adversary.