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

3 страница из 49

“Row! Row! Why don’t you put some speed in your strokes, Frank?” called the younger brother.

“That’s all right—you won’t want to do any speeding by the time you get to the dock,” and Frank glanced over his shoulder to where the public dock stretched out into the bay like some long water-snake. “It’s nearly two miles there, and the swell is getting heavier.”

Frank spoke quickly, and then relapsed into silence. It was characteristic of him to do whatever he did with all his might, while his more fun-loving brother sometimes started things and then left off, saying it was “too much trouble.”

For a time Andy’s skiff was in the lead, and then, as he found the exertion too much, he eased up in his strokes, and lessened the number of them.

“I thought you were going it a bit too heavy,” remarked Frank, with a smile.

“Oh, you get out!” laughed Andy. “I’ll beat you yet. But I like your company, that’s why I let you catch up to me.”

“Oh, yes!” answered Frank, half sarcastically. “But why don’t you stop talking? You can’t talk and row, I’ve told you that lots of times. That’s the reason you lost that race with Bob Trent last week—you got all out of breath making fun of him.”