The Eight-Oared Victors/Chapter 19
CHAPTER XIX
JEALOUSY
We've got to do some pulling to-morrow," remarked Frank, as they rowed toward the island. "Mr. Pierson said he'd show us a new wrinkle or two."
"And we want to begin to hit up the speed a bit," added Tom.
"That's right," agreed Phil, who was fussing with the motor, that missed every now and then.
"But say!" exclaimed Sid. "I thought we were going to take the girls down to watch some of the other fellows row opposite college to-morrow?" and there was a rueful look on his face.
"Well, I know we did speak of that," said Tom, "but"
"The implied invitation is declined with thanks," broke in Ruth. "We girls simply have to do some house-cleaning to-morrow. The cottage is a perfect sight, and it's sweet of Madge not to have found fault before."
"Oh, it's nothing of the sort!" declared the young and pretty hostess. "Don't decline on that account."
"No, don't!" besought Sid.
"But we really must stay home," declared Mabel. "I know we have upset things terribly, and tossed our belongings about until I'm sure that poor maid must be distracted picking things up. Besides, Mr. Tyler is coming up to-morrow and I know your mother will want the place in some sort of decent shape, Madge. We must stay and help."
"Indeed, yes," echoed Helen Newton.
"Too bad! "declared Phil.
"Besides, it's all you boys' fault that it is so upset," went on Ruth.
"How do you make that out?" demanded Tom.
"Why you're always coming along, begging us to go out with you, and you're always in such a hurry that we can't wait to pick up things. So there!"
"Any reason, even if it's a poor one," remarked Frank, drily.
They glided along for some time, and then the motor suddenly stopped.
"Now what's wrong?" asked Frank.
"I knew something would happen if Phil didn't stop monkeying with it," declared Tom.
"Monkey yourself!" retorted the lad who had been acting as engineer. "All I did was to screw the spark plug in a bit tighter, and shut the pet-cock."
"Then you probably cracked the porcelain on the spark plug, and there's a short circuit," spoke Frank. "Here, let me take a look, and see what the trouble is," and as Frank had been successful in times past, when the others had failed, they made room for him at the motor.
He looked it over a moment, and then, seeing that the switch was on, gave the flywheel a couple of turns. There was only an apologetic wheeze.
"He knows so much about motors," sarcastically murmured Tom to Ruth.
"He knows enough to turn on the gasoline, at any rate, and not try to run the motor with what's in the carburetor," snapped back Frank, as he opened the cock in the pipe leading from the tank in the bow. "Who started this motor, anyhow?"
"I did," confessed Tom, the tables thus being turned against him.
"Next time turn on the gas," repeated Frank. "It's one of the first things to do in running a motor-boat, sonny. You may write the word gasoline twenty-five times before you go to sleep tonight," and all joined in the laugh against poor Tom.
"Huh! I supposed it was always kept turned on," he said in defense.
"The carburetor leaks a little, so I always shut the gas off at the tank," explained Sid. "I guess I forgot to mention it."
"And I can easily guess why," spoke Frank, with a significant glance at the pretty girl beside whom his chum was sitting.
"Well, It's another little wrinkle—one of a number—we've learned about the boat," spoke Tom, when they were once more under way.
"All good things have to come to and end, I suppose," remarked Sid, when they had landed and were bidding the girls good-bye. "But we hope there'll be more excursions."
"You can always ask us—at least as long as we're here," said Mabel. "Though I'm afraid we'll have to go next week. It's been perfectly lovely of Madge to keep us this long"
"Indeed you're not going so soon!" declared the hostess. "Why, you haven't been here any time at all yet, and when you do go I'll be so lonesome"
"So will we!" chorused the lads. "Don't go," and the girls laughingly promised to stay as long as possible.
True to their determination, the lads went out in the four-oared shell the next day, with Mr. Pierson in the launch to coach them. He put them through some stiff practice, and increased the stroke to a number where the boys were almost on the point of protesting. But they realized that they needed it, though they were glad to stop when the word was given.
"A few days of that will put you in the way of bettering your wind," said the old college graduate, with a whimsical smile. I have spoken of him as an "old" graduate, but, in point of fact he was not at all an elderly man. I merely used "old" in a comparative sense.
"I wonder what's the matter with Boswell?" ventured Sid, as they rowed the shell back to the college float, and prepared to motor back in the launch. "I haven't seen him out practicing today."
"That's right," agreed Tom. "And say, did it strike any of you as queer the way that Mexican was looking for him?"
"Somewhat," admitted Frank.
"There must be something between them," went on Tom. "I wonder if, after all, it can have anything to do with the missing jewelry?"
"What makes you think so?" asked Phil.
"I don't know that I do, very definitely. But that Mendez was certainly anxious to find Bossy, though for what reason I can't even guess. Wouldn't it be queer if Bossy had found those cups and other things, and gotten rid of 'em through the Mexican, after he found he had carried the joke too far?"
"I believe you," replied Frank. "But it's pretty far-fetched to my way of thinking. I'd hate to believe that any Randall man would be guilty of such a thing."
"So would I," added Phil.
"Oh, well, I only mentioned it as a supposition," said Tom, in self-defense. "Anyhow, Bossy sure does practice hard in his single. I guess that trainer of his knows his business."
"Yes, he's a good trainer," admitted Frank. "I've heard of him, but it's pretty near the limit for a fellow to have a private trainer. It's too much like putting on lugs."
"It is that," said Phil. "And I suppose, when we get back in the Fall, about all we'll hear will be Bossy and his shell."
"I wonder if he has a chance to win?" asked Tom. "They have some expert scullers at Boxer Hall."
"Well, they ought to have; look how long they've been at it," retorted Frank.
"I'll be rather glad to get back to college again," went on the tall pitcher. "This loafing life is good, but I'm anxious to get in the eight."
"So am I," came from Sid, "but it's sport here," and he looked toward the island they were approaching, probably thinking of the girls. So far the four chums had not been able to get five others, one the coxswain, with them so that they could row in the eight-oared shell. But the four gave them sufficient practice, Mr. Pierson thought, since, after all, it was a matter of the stroke, and could be acquired in one craft as well as in another.
Meanwhile, a little scene was taking place near the Tyler cottage, that, had our friends beheld it—or, rather one of our friends in particular—might have caused some trouble.
The girls were kept busy with some light housework, helping Mrs. Tyler and the maid, after the boys left. Then, having put their rooms in order they attired themselves in fresh gowns and walked off toward the water. Near the cottage Boswell occupied, the four young ladies met the rich lad and his English chum. The two were out for a walk, and, as the youths stopped to chat for a moment with Madge, whom they had met formally, she could do no less than halt a moment with the other girls, who had been introduced to the lads.
"Come down and I'll take you out in my launch," invited Boswell. "I've just got a new one, and it's quite fast."
"Oh, come on!" cried Ruth, impulsively. "That one Phil and the boys have is so slow, and something is always happening to it."
"My word! I should say so!" laughed Pierce.
"But we declined an invitation to go out with—our boys," said Mabel Harrison, in a low voice.
"Oh, well," spoke Ruth. "They had to go to practice anyhow, and we won't be long. Come on."
It was a delightful day, and the invitation was hard to resist. Behold then, as a Frenchman would say, behold then, a little later, the four pretty girls in Boswell's launch, with himself and Pierce making themselves as agreeable as they knew how. And to give them their due, they knew how to interest girls, and were deferential and polite in their demeanor.
"Your pin is coming unfastened," remarked Boswell to Ruth, as they were speeding along, and he motioned to a bit of lace at her throat—lace caught up with a simple gold bar clasp.
"Oh, thank you," she answered, as she fastened it, and then she blushed, and was angry at herself for doing it.
"Where is that lovely old-fashioned brooch you used to wear?" asked Madge, looking at her chum.
"Oh—er—I wouldn't wear it out in a boat, anyhow," said Ruth, blushing redder than before. "I—I might lose it. See, wasn't that a fish that jumped over there!" and she pointed to the left, glad of a chance to change the subject.
"Yes, and a jolly big fellow, too!" declared Pierce. "Why can't we get up a fishing party, and take you girls?" he asked. "My word, it would be jolly sport! We could take our lunch, and have tea in the woods, a regular outing, dontcherknow."
"That's the ticket!" exclaimed Boswell. "Will you girls come?" and he looked particularly at Ruth.
"I don't know," she replied and then, in the spirit of mischief, she added: "I'll ask my brother. Perhaps he'd like to come. He is a good fisherman."
"Oh—er—it wasn't so much about the fish that I was thinking," spoke Pierce, a bit dismayed, and then he dropped the subject.
"Are you fond of old-fashioned jewelry?" asked Boswell, in a low voice to Ruth. "I mean old brooches and the like?"
"Yes—why?" asked Ruth rather startled.
"Oh, I only just wanted to know. I'm a bit that way myself. My mother has a very old brooch that I gave her. I mean it was old when I came across it and bought it. I'll borrow it some day and let you see it."
Ruth murmured a polite rejoinder, scarcely knowing what she did say, and then, as one of the lake steamers approached rather dangerously close to the launch, there was a moment of excitement aboard both craft, for Pierce, who should have been steering, had neglected it for the agreeable task of being polite to Mabel Harrison.
But nothing more than a scare resulted. When matters had quieted down, the talk turned into another channel, and Ruth was glad to keep it there.
The topic of the brooch, she thought, was a rather dangerous one for her, since she wanted to keep from her friends, and especially from Tom and her folks, the knowledge of the missing pin. She was hoping against hope that it would be found. She wondered what Boswell meant by his reference, but did not dare ask him.
The ride was a pleasant one, though the girls—all of them—felt that they had, perhaps, been just a bit mean toward their boy chums. Still, as Madge had said, Tom and his friends did have practice.
"We better go back now," said Ruth, after a bit. "It has been delightful, though."
"And the engine didn't break down once," added Helen.
"Oh I don't get things that break," spoke Boswell, with an air of pride. "But you don't want to go in so soon; do you?"
"We must," insisted Madge, and, rather against their wishes, the boys turned back.
As Fate would have it, the new launch got to the Boswell dock just as the craft containing Tom and his chums hove in sight. Their wheezy boat puffed slowly along, and as it was steered in toward the dock they had improvised near their tent, the boys saw Boswell and his chum helping the girls out. Then Boswell walked alongside Ruth, seeming to be in earnest conversation with her.
"Say, would you look at that!" cried Sid. "The girls were out with those chaps!"
"And after refusing to come with us!" went on Frank.
"I like their nerve!" declared Phil.
Tom said nothing, but there came a queer look in his eyes.
"Well, I suppose we're not the only fellows on the Island," spoke Frank, philosophically. "We couldn't expect them to stay in, waiting for us to come back, on such a fine day as this."
"But they said they were going to be busy," objected Sid.
"Oh, well, I guess what they had to do could be dropped and picked up again, when there was a launch ride in the offing," went on the Big Californian. "We'll call around after supper and take 'em out. There's going to be a glorious moon."
"Fine!" cried Sid. But when evening came, and the others attired themselves more or less gaily, ready for a call, Tom did not doff his old garments.
"What's the matter, sport; aren't you coming?" asked Sid.
"Nope."
"Why not? Ruth won't want to go unless you're there."
"I don't care. I'm not going. I don't feel like it."
"Oh, come on."
"Nope."
"What shall I tell her?" asked Sid, looking to see that Phil and Frank had gone on ahead.
"Nothing," and Tom began filling a lantern, this being one of his duties that week.
Sid stood regarding his chum for a moment, and then without a word, but with a suggestive shrug of his shoulders, went out.