"Which means that you met Lef Seller with his Flier. And if you beat him I guess he didn't take it in any sportsmanlike way?" she continued, at which Frank laughed.
"You ought to be a lawyer, Helen; you persist in cornering a witness. Well, then he didn't. In fact he brought about a collision, throwing his boat squarely across our bows, in the hope that Lanky's craft would be smashed," he said.
Mr. Allen frowned.
"That boy is the pest of the town. There will never be any peace here until his father sends him away to some military school, where he can be taken in hand by a stern martinet, and made to mind. It's the only hope for him. And did he succeed in his miserable aim, my boy?" he asked, solicitously.
"There was a wreck, all right, but it happened the shoe was on the other foot, and the poor old Flier is only fit for the woodpile now. It's just as well, for Lef would never use her again, after being overtaken so handsomely by Lanky's new racer. But we hardly had a bit of trouble, and went on our way, leaving Lef and Bill Klemm breathing out all sorts of threats," chuckled Frank.
"The little scamp," said Mrs. Allen, indignantly. "Either one of you might have been seriously injured. Husband, I insist that you see his father,
