Читать книгу The Racer Boys; Or, The Mystery of the Wreck онлайн

2 страница из 49

“Just a minute,” pleaded Andy, and he moved over slightly on his seat in order better to trim the boat. He took a tighter grip on the oars, and nodded toward his brother, still with that tantalizing smile on his face.

“Let her go!” he called a moment later, adding: “I can taste that chocolate soda now, Frank! Yum-yum!”

“Better save your breath for rowing,” counseled Frank good-naturedly, as he bent to the ashen blades with a will.

The two boats—for each of the Racer lads had his own craft—were on a line, and were headed for a long dock that ran out into the quiet inlet of the Atlantic which washed the shores of the little settlement known as Harbor View, a fishing village about thirty miles from New York.

“Wow! Here’s where I put it all over you by about six lengths!” boasted Andy Racer, paying no attention to his brother’s well-meant advice, and then the two lads got into the swing of the oars, and the skiffs fairly leaped over the waves that rolled in long swells.

Both boys having spent nearly all their summer vacations at the coast resort, which was something of a residence, place for summer colonists, as well as a fishing centre, were expert oarsmen, sturdy and capable of long exertion. They were nearly matched in strength, too, in spite of the difference in their ages. They had taken a long, leisurely row that summer morning and were on their way back when Andy proposed the race.