Frank and Andy at Boarding School

IN TROUBLE

"We ought to be there pretty soon now; eh Frank?"

"Yes; the captain said it wasn't a very long trip, and we've been on this boat quite a while."

"I wonder what Riverview Hall looks like—what sort of a school it is?" and Andy Racer glanced at his older brother as they paced the deck of a river steamer that was plowing its way up a pleasant stream.

"I don't know, Andy," and Frank Racer seemed a bit puzzled. "It must be a good school, or dad and mother wouldn't have picked it out for us."

"Yet neither one of them saw the place before they decided on it," objected Andy with a smile on his pleasant face.

"Except that mother knew Dr. Wesley Doolittle, the principal, and she thought we needed to go to some quiet place, after the lively times we had this summer."

"Smoked lobsters!" exclaimed Andy. "I hope it's not too quiet. I want to have some fun when I go off to boarding school. Say, Frank, see that man sleeping over there by the smokestack?" and the lad motioned in the direction.

"Yes, I see him. What of it?"

"I've got one of those rubber spiders in my pocket. You know, the kind that you dangle on a string. I'll sneak up behind him, and hold it over his head. Then you make a loud noise and he'll wake up. He'll have a fit when he sees a big bug about to fall on him. Come ahead," and Andy, who was always on the alert for fun or a joke, started toward the man.

"No, you don't!" exclaimed Frank quickly. "I've gotten into enough trouble with you and your jokes since we started from New York. You wait until you get to school before you try any more funny business. Have you forgotten how the lobster you wanted to nip Chet Sedley nipped you?"

"Wow! I should say not. But this trip is getting slow. I wish something would happen. Come on, let's go on the upper deck where we can see better. We may sight Riverview Hall."

"Oh, we'll see enough of that before we get through with it. But, Andy, I'm as anxious as you are to know what kind of a place it is, and I won't be sorry when we locate it. Come on; walking about is more fun than standing still."

The two boys, Frank Racer, aged about fifteen and his brother Andy, a year younger, who were on their way to boarding school for the first time in their lives, walked away together.

They had left their home in New York city early that morning, and after traveling some distance by train had boarded the steamer that was to take them to Riverview Hall, an institution of learning located on Halcyon river in the western part of New York state.

The boat was making fair time up the stream, which was a good sized one, and quite broad. As the craft made a turn, giving a good view for some distance up the river, Andy, who had taken a position well forward, on the upper deck, uttered a cry.

"See, Frank!" he exclaimed, catching his brother by the arm. "There's some sort of an academy or college, right on that point of land about a mile up. That's a dandy location. And say, it's a big school, too. There'd be lots of chance to have fun on the water there. I'll bet they have rowing races. Crackey! we'll have some sport!" and Andy began capering about on the deck.

Frank looked interested and gazed at the big, and evidently new college, or school, which they were rapidly approaching.

"If that's Riverview Hall," he said, "it's all right, and a better place than I expected. That doesn't look like a nice, quiet school though, such as mother thought she was picking out. But I'm going to ask some one."

"Oh, that's Riverview all right," Andy insisted. But Frank had turned aside, and was speaking to a gentleman who had approached the lads.

"Can you tell me, sir," asked the older lad, "if that is Riverview Hall? We expect to attend school there."

The gentleman looked to where Frank pointed.

"That," he replied with a smile, "is Waterside Hall. It is one of the best schools in this part of the country. It is not so very old, but there are more students than it can accommodate. It's a fine place. I have a boy going there," and he seemed very proud of the fact.

For a moment Andy and Frank were a little bit too disappointed to speak. Then Andy asked:

"Isn't Riverview Hall somewhere about here?"

"Oh, yes, about five miles farther up the river."

"Is that anything like—I mean what sort of a place is it?" and Frank anxiously waited for the reply.

The gentleman looked critically at the two lads.

"Riverview Hall," he said slowly, "well, it was a good school once, but now—" he paused and shrugged his shoulders. "It's old and out of date," he went on. "In fact it is fast losing what little prestige it had. It isn't to be compared with Waterside Hall. Now that is a school to be proud of!" and he waved his hand toward the group of buildings, surrounded by a green campus that came to the river's edge. The boat was just opposite it now.

"But Riverview Hall," the man added, "I wouldn't let a son of mine go there, and I wouldn't advise any one to go who wanted to be at a real, live, up-to-date school," and then, evidently forgetting that our heroes had remarked that they expected to attend Riverview Hall, the gentleman turned aside, unconscious of having said anything to cause the lads uneasiness.

Andy and Frank continued to gaze regretfully at the big new school they were passing. They could see groups of students—early term arrivals—running about, while another group of lads were just putting into the water a fine eight-oared shell.

"Did you hear what he said, Frank?" asked Andy in a low voice.

"Sure. I couldn't very well help it."

"Riverview Hall old and out-of-date," murmured Andy slowly.

"He wouldn't let a son of his go there," added Frank.

"And we're going as fast as the boat can take us," went on his younger brother with something like a groan. "Say, we're in for it now, for keeps! And see what we're missing." He waved his hand toward Waterside, which they were now leaving behind. "Why didn't dad and mother pick out that place for us?" he asked.

"Give it up," replied Frank. "It's too late now."

Almost despondent over the reputation that had been so unexpectedly given their prospective school, and yet hoping against hope that it might not turn out as badly as they expected, the lads went to a lower deck.

"Maybe that man didn't know what he was talking about," suggested Andy, when they had reached a quiet corner, just outside one of the small cabins.

"I'm afraid he did," said Frank. "He said he had a son going to Waterside, so he must live around here and he's probably acquainted. Well, we've got to make the best of it. I guess—"

But Frank did not finish what he was going to say. His words were interrupted by hearing a voice, evidently raised in anger, as this exclamation was audible:

"Well, I'll tell you one thing, Miss! That money has got to be paid, and that's all there is about it! If your mother can't pay it, then I look to you. I want my rights!" and there came a sound of a fist being banged down most emphatically on woodwork.

"Oh, sir! Can't you wait a little longer? You know we would pay you if we could. But we can't raise any cash on those securities, as we expected, or we—"

"That will do now, young lady. I've listened to enough excuses. I want my money, and if I don't get it I'll take means that you and your mother won't like. Do you hear me?"

Once more the fist was banged down. It was followed by a sound indicating unmistakably that a girl was sobbing. Andy and Frank looked at each other. Then they gazed in through the cabin door, near which they were standing, and saw a very pretty girl, about fourteen years of age, confronted by a tall, grizzled man, wearing a rusty black suit and a black string tie fastened around an old-fashioned collar. The man's countenance was in keeping with his clothes. He was smooth shaven, but his face was full of wrinkles. There were hard lines about his mouth, the corners of which were drawn down, while his eyes, which peered out from behind large spectacles, had shaggy, overhanging brows.

"Nice looking chap—not," murmured Andy.

"Hush!" whispered Frank. "Come away, it's none of our affair."

But, before they could move, the girl burst into such a fit of crying that the sympathies of both lads were aroused. The man and the girl were the only occupants of the cabin, and there was no one else near on the outside deck save Andy and Frank. The girl continued to sob pitifully, her face covered with her hands.

The man took her roughly by the arm. The girl raised her tear-stained face and indignantly pulled herself away. The man took a step toward her and the girl's face grew white with fear. She seemed about to scream.

"I can't stand this!" murmured Frank to Andy. "I'm going to help her in her trouble, whether it's our business or not."

"And I'm with you!" exclaimed Andy.

Frank stepped into the little cabin. The two occupants of it were too excited to notice him for a moment. Then the Racer lad said:

"Excuse me, Miss, but I see you are in trouble. Can I help you in any way? My brother and I would be very glad to. Is there anything we can do?"

The girl looked at the two lads gratefully, though in some surprise. There was a look of anger on the face of the crabbed man.

"I—I thank you very much," said the girl in a low voice. "I think that Mr. Callum forgot himself for a moment. He will not be guilty of such conduct again." She looked at him fearlessly. "It is very kind of you," she went on, addressing the lads, "but there is nothing you can do, thank you so much, though." She smiled through her tears; smiled at Frank, so Andy said afterward. "Mr. Callum will not annoy me again."

This seemed to be too much for the crabbed old man.

"Look here!" he cried in anger, addressing Frank and Andy. "What right have you got to interfere with me? This is none of your business."

"It's the business of every gentleman when a lady is in distress to try to help her," replied Frank quickly.

"Well, you mind your own affairs and let mine alone!" snarled the man. "I can attend to my own business. I'll settle matters with this young lady and perhaps in a manner she doesn't like. As for you young fellows, take my advice and don't interfere with me. I won't stand it! I tell you I won't stand it!"

He smote the palm of one hand with the fist of the other and fairly glared at the boys. Frank returned his gaze fearlessly.

"Now you mind that!" went on the man. "I don't want you interfering in my affairs, or you'll wish you hadn't. As for you, Miss Morton—I'll see you or your mother again," and with that the unpleasant personage turned on his heel and strode out of the cabin door, casting a look full of meanness at our heroes.

The girl and the two boys stood facing each other in the little cabin.

"It was very kind of you," she murmured, looking at Frank, and blushing slightly.

"Are you sure there is nothing we can do to help you?" eagerly asked the elder Racer lad. The girl was fast recovering her composure, and the traces of tears were vanishing.

"No, thank you," she said gently. "It's just some trouble about money matters that I hope will soon be straightened out. I did not know he was aboard or I would not have come by this boat."

"Well, if there is anything we can do, please let us know," went on the elder lad. "My name is Frank Racer, and this is my brother Andy."

"I am Miss Gertrude Morton, of Dailsburg," said the girl as she shook hands with the boys. "I can't thank you enough for what you did. I don't suppose he meant any real harm, but he frightened me."

"The brute!" murmured Frank, clenching his fists as he looked at Miss Gertrude's pretty face.

"Do you boys live around here?" she asked, after a pause. "I live just a few miles up the river, not far from Riverview Hall."

"Is that so?" exclaimed Frank—very eagerly Andy thought. "We are going to school there. We're on our way now."

The girl looked very much surprised.

"By the way, who was that man who spoke so harshly?" asked Andy.

"Why, don't you know him?" inquired Miss Morton. "If you—but you say you are just going to Riverview Hall. Then you will soon make his acquaintance, for he is Professor Thorndyke Callum, the head assistant at Riverview."

For a moment amazement held Frank and Andy dumb. Then the older lad exclaimed:

"Great Scott! Head assistant at Riverview! What are we up against? He'll have it in for us after what we did."

The girl looked half alarmed and half amused as she bowed to the boys and left the cabin. Andy and Frank stood staring at one another.

"We sure are up against it!" murmured the younger lad at length. "A punk school to start with, and in bad with the head professor from the very beginning! Wow! Wow! What are we going to do, Frank?"

---

THE WRECK OF THE BED

Andy's question was not answered immediately. He and Frank were busily engaged in thinking. The scene through which they had just passed with Professor Callum and Miss Gertrude Morton, and the surprising announcement of the man who had told them about Riverview Hall gave them plenty about which to reflect.

And I shall have no better opportunity than this of telling you a little more about the two lads, for they are seldom quiet long enough at a time to enable one to get an idea of their characters. They are always on the go, Andy especially, for he never misses a chance to have some fun or play a joke.

Frank and Andy Racer were fine fellows. They were the sons of Mr. Richard Racer, and his wife, Olivia. Mr. Racer was a wholesale silk merchant, in business in New York, where his winter home was located. His summer residence was at Harbor View, a coast resort about thirty miles from the metropolis.

There, as told in the first volume of this series, entitled "Frank and Andy Afloat" the boys had many adventures. They were out rowing one day when a whale attacked them. Andy's boat was hit, but his brother saved him. Later they went for a sail, and discovered a wrecked motor boat, containing an injured lad.

They saved him, but the lad had passed through such danger that he lost his memory and did not know who he was. The boys gave themselves up to solving the mystery of his identity and to learn the secret of the motor craft.

How they succeeded, how they were in danger from the man who sought to injure Paul, which they learned was the name of the mysterious lad, how they foiled the schemes of the villain and how, after being cast away on a desolate island they were finally rescued—all this you will find set down in the first book.

The Racer boys were so active, and ran into so much danger, though with the best intentions in the world, that their parents did not know what to do with them. After a consultation Mr. and Mrs. Racer decided to send the lads to a boarding school, hoping this would tame their lively spirits.

For this purpose Mrs. Racer selected Riverview Hall. She had never seen the place, but she had heard of Dr. Wesley Doolittle, the head of the school, who had a fine reputation as a scholar, whatever were his shortcomings as a financial manager. One of Mrs. Racer's clubwomen friends had sent her son to the school some years before, when the lad had decided to enter the ministry, and this lady spoke so highly of the classical atmosphere at Riverview that Mrs. Racer thought it would be just the place for Andy and Frank.

"They will quiet down," she told her husband. "It will be the very thing for them."

"It may be too quiet," objected the silk merchant. "You know boys have to have some fun and—er—excitement."

"Excitement! I should say they had enough in getting that horrid whale ashore. But I've no doubt that Andy and Frank will have a good time at Riverview Hall. They can make amusements for themselves."

"Yes, I guess they can," answered Mr. Racer with the trace of a smile.

So it had come about that, on their return to their New York home, preparations were made to send our heroes to boarding school. Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Racer had time to visit the place of learning, the arrangements being concluded by letters. There was no question about the reputation of the school as far as learning was concerned. The boys would also be assured of proper care and good food. That was as far as the parents went.

Now we shall see what sort of a place it was to which Frank and Andy Racer were consigned.

"Couldn't be much worse; could it?" asked Andy after a pause.

"It sounds pretty dubious," admitted Frank, with a shake of his head.

They hurried out of the cabin, where they had remained after Miss Gertrude Morton had left them. They found the steamer approaching a wharf at a small town. There was no sign of a school.

"Good-bye!" a voice called to them, and they looked to see the pretty girl going ashore.

"This must be Dailsburg—where she lives," said Frank.

"Yes, this is Dailsburg," spoke a gentleman standing near them. "Riverview is the next stop."

They thanked him, and waved to Miss Gertrude. She was the only passenger to go ashore and the steamer was soon on its way again. The boys saw nothing of Mr. Callum.

"We'd better get our baggage together, if the next stop is ours," suggested Frank to his brother. Then he and Andy became busy. They were on deck as the boat approached the dock of Riverview, a town of considerable size. Eagerly they looked about for a sign of the school.

"I wonder where it can be?" asked Frank. "Gee whizz! I hope it isn't back in the woods. I was thinking it might be on the river shore, so we could go boating."

"Same here," put in Andy. "Let's ask some one."

From a deckhand they learned that their boarding school was about a quarter of a mile from the pier where the steamer had stopped.

"And is it on the river?" asked Andy.

"Yes, right on the shore," replied the deckhand. "You just keep along the water road and you'll come to it."

"Good!" cried Frank. "Then we can have some rowing races. I hope they have a good crew at Riverview."

The deckhand looked at the lads; and a smile came over his tanned face. He seemed about to say something, but was called away. The boys quickly made arrangements about having their trunks put off, and then, each carrying a suit case, they walked down the gangplank. They had a glimpse of Professor Callum gathering his baggage together ready to go ashore.

"Well, we're here," said Frank, as they started off up the river road, as directed. It ran close to the water's edge, and was a fine highway. Halcyon river, in fact, was an important stream, and was beautiful, for it had not been polluted by factory waste or refuse.

"Yes, we're here," admitted Andy, and he seemed down-hearted. "I wonder what sort of a place it is. Funny there is no carriage to take us."

In silence they tramped on. Each step they took nearer to the school appeared to make them more gloomy, though they could not tell why. The place seemed very silent and deserted for the vicinity of a boarding school attended by up-to-date boys. There were no lively groups of students to be seen, and the river was deserted of rowing craft from the institution.

As they made a turn of the road, Riverview Hall came into their line of vision. The school buildings were situated on a large hill, which gave a fine view of the water. All about the structures were extensive grounds, extending down to the edge of the stream.

"There she is!" exclaimed Frank, coming to a halt.

"Yes, it's a big enough place," admitted Andy, "but—"

He did not finish. He saw, as did his brother, that there was something the matter. The buildings though substantially built seemed greatly in need of attention. There was an air about them as if they were neglected and were destined to go to ruin.

The campus was littered with paper and the grass had not been cut in some time. There was an air of desolation about the place. Now that they were near enough the brothers could make out groups of students strolling about, but there seemed to be no life in them. They were not playing ball, running, leaping or doing any of the things dear to boyish hearts.

"Say, what's the matter with this place, anyhow?" suddenly asked Andy. "Is it hoodooed?"

"Give it up," answered Frank. "Come on, I see a boathouse. Maybe it isn't so bad after all. We can join the crew."

Their hearts fell at the sight of the boathouse. The roof needed shingling, and the structure would have been much improved by a coat of paint. Then, as they moved around to the other side of it they saw a big hole in the roof.

"Say, that will leak like a sieve," remarked Andy.

"Yes, and I don't see any boats," added Frank gloomily.

The two boys strolled down to the water's edge.

"Here are some barges," called Frank. "But great Scott! Look at 'em! It would be as much as your life was worth to go out in 'em. They'd sink in ten minutes. Oh, this is fierce!"

Despondently, and more and more impressed with the desolation of the place, the Racer boys walked on toward the main group of school buildings.

"There's a fine diamond—if it was put in shape," said Frank, motioning toward the ball field.

"Yes, but look at it!" exclaimed his brother. "It's all overgrown with grass, and you can't tell third base from home plate. It hasn't been used at all lately. What's the matter with the fellows here, I wonder?"

Frank shook his head. He did not know what to say.

There was a murmur of voices on the other side of a neglected hedge, much in want of trimming, which bordered a walk that led up to the main building. As Andy and Frank entered the opening in the natural fence they came face to face with a group of lads, evidently students. Frank addressed them.

"Is this Riverview Hall?" he asked, hoping he might be mistaken.

"Yes—this is the place—what's left of it," replied a tall lad, in the centre of the group. He spoke listlessly.

"We're newcomers," added Andy. "We've just come, but—er—that is—"

He stopped in some confusion.

"It seems as if there was something the matter with the place," broke in Frank. "What's the trouble? Has the school been closed suddenly for some reason?" He almost hoped it had.

"Oh, no, school's going on," replied another lad, indifferently chewing on a blade of grass. "The term has just opened. But it's this way always—no fun here. I wish I didn't have to come, but dad thinks it's all right."

"Why—what is the matter?" insisted the elder Racer lad.

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough, if you stay," was the significant answer. "Won't he, fellows?"

"Sure!" came in a chorus, but even that was given with no enthusiasm.

"Well, I guess we've got to stay," said Frank. "Can you tell us where to find Dr. Doolittle?"

"Here he comes now," answered one lad, motioning to the somewhat bent figure of an elderly gentleman approaching. He had one book under his arm, and was reading another as he walked along. Andy and Frank were struck by a peculiar pathos about the head of the school. He looked to be a fine scholar, but there seemed to be something worrying him. They were sure of this a little later as they approached closer to speak to him. Dr. Doolittle appeared to be struggling with some difficult, problem that he had tried in vain to solve for a long time.

He caught sight of our heroes, and a kindly smile came over his face.

"We are the Racer boys, Dr. Doolittle," said Frank, "and we—"

"Oh, yes, glad to see you back," said the doctor kindly. "You did very well last term. I suppose you are ready to resume your studies and—"

"We weren't here last term," interrupted Frank. "We have just come, and we'd like to know where our rooms are."

"Oh, yes! To be sure! I remember now. Your father wrote me about you. Hum! Yes. I hope you will like it here. We think we have a very fine school."

"You've got another think coming," whispered Andy.

"Well, I am glad to have met you," went on the principal. "I shall see you again. Very glad, hum!" He opened his book, and was about to pass on.

"But about our rooms," insisted Frank gently. "We don't know where to go."

"Why, take the same rooms you had last year," said Dr. Doolittle, in evident surprise at the question. "Yes, the same rooms. Hum!"

Once more he was about to turn away.

"But we weren't here last year!" exclaimed Andy.

"Oh, no. You're right. So you weren't. I remember now. I knew there was something about you that I was trying to recall. Well, just go up to the main dormitory, and report to the housekeeper, Mrs. Stone. She will assign you to rooms. I am very glad to have met you. Hum! Yes! I hope you will like it here. We have a very fine school," and this time the doctor succeeded in getting away. He was deep in his book once more.

"I think he must be a bit absent-minded," said Frank.

"You think it!" exclaimed Andy. "I know it. He's a nice old man all right, but—a 'fine school'! Wow! This is the limit, and there may be worse to come. Let's go see Mrs. Stone. I hope she's not as hard as her name. But I don't know as there's any hurry. There doesn't appear to be any great rush for the sleeping quarters."

There were several groups of students in view now, but none of them seemed to be in any hurry. In fact there was a listlessness about the whole school that boded no good.

"Well, come on, anyhow," suggested Frank. "We want to get settled and then look about. I hope they have plenty for supper. I'm half starved."

"Same here. Gee! But this is a lonesome place!"

"Maybe they're not all here yet," put in his brother.

"Let us hope so. This looks like the main dormitory. Let's go in."

They found Mrs. Stone a pleasant faced matron, who welcomed them kindly and made them feel at home.

"Let me see!" she exclaimed in a thoughtful manner. "I don't know just where to put you yet. The rooms have not all been assigned. I have tried to talk to Dr. Doolittle about it, but every time I approach him he seems to be thinking of something else. But I know what I can do. I'll give you a temporary room for to-night, and to-morrow we'll settle the matter. Come this way."

She led them up a flight of stairs and down a long corridor. Frank and Andy noted that however neglected the outside of the place was, the interior was clean and neat, though it was badly in need of repairs. Evidently Mrs. Stone was an energetic housekeeper, doing the best she could under the circumstances.

"There, this will have to do for the present," she said, as she threw open the door of a room. "Perhaps I can find a better apartment for you to-morrow. Supper is served at six o'clock. The warning bell rings a quarter of an hour before that. All the boys dine together in the main hall. You will sit at the freshman table."

"How will we know which it is?" asked Andy.

"Oh, some of the students will show you. Now I must leave you. I think you will find all that you need. If not, let me know."

The boys gazed at each other, and then around the room. It was not a very inviting place. The wall paper was old and dingy, but it seemed clean. There were no ornaments in the apartment, and the beds, of which there were two, were old, as were the washstands and bureaus.

"Well, I guess we can stand it, but it's going to be quite a struggle," said Frank with a sigh.

"Dad and mother never knew what sort of a place this is or they'd never have sent us here," was Andy's opinion. "It may be all right for Greek, Latin and mathematics, but a fellow can't live on them. It's going to be punk here for fun, I'm afraid."

Frank crossed over and looked out of the window. He heard a movement from his brother.

"Gee whizz! I've got to do something or bust!" cried the younger lad. "Here goes for a handspring on the bed! Wow!"

He gave a little run and a jump. Then he landed in the middle of the bed on his hands.

Down into the mattress he sank with his feet wiggling in the air. Then there came a mighty crash. The bed collapsed under the weight and sudden impact of the sturdy youth, and a moment later he came to the floor amid a confusion of pillows, sheets, springs, mattress and the wrecked bed, while the racket echoed and re-echoed throughout the corridor of the dormitory.

---

"I'LL STICK IT OUT!"

"Are you hurt, Andy? How did it happen?" cried Frank, turning from the window and hurrying to the wreck of the bed, in which his brother was still entangled.

"No, I'm not hurt; of course not. How could a fellow get hurt falling in a soft bed?"

"But what happened?" asked Frank.

"Great Scott! How do I know? I just gave a spring on here, and—"

"Your spring was too much for the bed spring, I suppose," remarked Frank, laughing when he saw that Andy was all right. "Here, give me your hand, and I'll pull you out."

With his brother's help the younger lad was soon on his feet again. Ruefully he surveyed the tangle of bed and bed clothes.

"Say, this is like a lot of other things around this school," remarked Andy. "It's got the dry rot. I never thought a bed wouldn't stand at least one handspring. Why the side pieces have cracked right in the middle." He bent over to look at the wrecked bed, which was one of the old-fashioned, wooden kind.

"You sure have put it out of commission," said Frank. "And what a racket you made! They must have heard it out on the campus. It's a wonder Mrs. Stone hasn't come up to know if we're trying to tear down the dormitory."

"Well, I didn't mean to do it," returned Andy, which was his usual excuse when any of his jokes or tricks went wrong. "I was just trying to see—"

He was interrupted by hearing some one hurrying along the corridor. Then came an imperative knock at their door.

"Who is in there?" demanded a sharp voice.

"We—we are," answered Andy, while he helped Frank to pick up the scattered clothes.

The portal swung open, disclosing to the lads the form and features of Professor Thorndyke Callum. There was a stern look on his face, and he fairly glared at them through his big glasses.

"What does this mean?" he asked. "I return to my duties at this school, and I am in my room, getting ready to take charge of my classes when I am disturbed by a disgraceful noise under me. What does it mean? How did it happen? Did you come here to repair the beds of the institution?"

"No sir, we are students here," explained Frank. "We have just arrived. My brother was trying the bed, and—"

"It broke!" interrupted Andy with just the trace of a smile on his mischievous face. "I—I guess I must have come down on it too hard."

"What! You students here? It's a disgrace!" burst out the professor. "I shall at once report you to Dr. Doolittle, and he—"

By this time Mr. Callum had advanced farther into the room. Frank and Andy had been standing with their backs to the light so that their faces were in a shadow. Now the professor could see them plainly. He stopped suddenly on recognizing in them the lads who had interfered with him on the boat. His face at once became more stern and forbidding.

"You boys students here?" he exclaimed as if not believing it.

"Yes—yes, sir," answered Andy ruefully.

"And aren't you the same lads who so unwarrantedly meddled with what did not concern you between myself and Miss Morton this afternoon?"

"Yes, but we didn't think—" began Frank.

"Silence! That is enough!" burst out the crabbed man. "You can not turn Riverview Hall into an institution such as are some of the disgraceful colleges. Such conduct will not be tolerated here! I repeat, young men, such conduct will meet with the severest punishment here! I have no doubt but that some silly prank was responsible for this. I shall report you to Dr. Doolittle. And so you are students here! Humph! We shall see!" and with a significant look on his face the unpleasant professor withdrew.

"Well, if that isn't the limit!" exclaimed Frank.

"Worse and more of it," agreed Andy. "I wonder where I am going to sleep to-night?"

His question was answered a moment later by the entrance of Mrs. Stone, the housekeeper. She threw up her hands when, on looking in through the open door, she saw the wrecked bed.

"Oh, I've been afraid something like this would happen!" she exclaimed. "None of the beds are strong enough for two big boys to sit on at once."

"But we didn't do that," explained Andy. "I—I er—sort of came down heavy on it, and—"

"Yes, I heard the crash," said the matron with a smile. "I came as fast as I could."

"Professor Callum was just here, and he is going to report us to the doctor," said Frank.

"Well, don't worry," advised the matron. "I will explain matters to him. I have told him that some of the beds are too old to use, but he doesn't seem to pay any attention to me. It's like many other things around here."

"Say, what is the matter at Riverview, Mrs. Stone?" asked Andy eagerly. "There's something wrong; isn't there?"

"Wrong? No, nothing wrong!" replied the housekeeper. "Useless you call a lack of money wrong. Dr. Doolittle hasn't enough funds back of his institution, that's all. But please don't ask me any questions. Now I will have to transfer you to another room, or bring another bed in here. I guess the first is easier."

Asking the boys to follow her she led them to another apartment farther down the corridor. Andy was glad she did not ask for particulars about how he came to "come down sort of heavy" on the bed.

"There, I think these beds are better," she said, as she left them. Andy approached one.

"Here, what are you going to do?" asked Frank quickly. "No more monkey-shine business."

"I wasn't going to," answered Andy indignantly. "I just wanted to lay my finger on one and see if it would stand up."

"Which—the bed or your finger?" asked Frank.

"Both. Yes, it's all right," spoke the younger lad as he gently, and with an exercise of studious and elaborate care, pressed on the middle of the bed. "I think we can sleep in it. Let's get out some of our older togs and go outside to see what some of the fellows look like. I'm afraid we're not going to like this place."

They donned garments in which they felt more at home, and soon were strolling over the overgrown neglected campus. They met a number of lads and soon struck up an acquaintance with them. To one in particular, Jack Sanderson, they took quite a notion. He was an athletic looking lad, and they learned that he was as fond of water sports as they were.

"You say you've been here two years," remarked Frank to Jack, after a while, during which they had been strolling about, "then what ails this place, anyhow? Why isn't the baseball diamond and the football gridiron kept in better shape? What's the matter with the boathouse? Why isn't the campus kept better?"

"That's a heap of questions," said Jack. "I guess Flopps, the gardener, is so busy that he hasn't had time to cut the grass, but, as for the others, there are two reasons. One is that the fellows don't seem to take any interest in sports, and the other is that Dr. Doolittle has about all he can do to make both of his money ends meet. He hasn't any to spare on diamonds or gridirons. That's why."

"But why don't the fellows get together and do something?" Andy wanted to know.

"It wants someone to wake them up," Jack said. "I tried it, but I couldn't do anything. The football team fizzled out, and so did the baseball nine. Oh, this is a tough place! I wish dad would let me go to a live college. But it seems he knew Dr. Doolittle years ago, and he thinks he's a great scholar. And so he is!" went on Jack eagerly. "There isn't a better teacher anywhere than he, but some of the other teachers are fierce!"

"How about Professor Callum?" asked Frank.

"What! Old Thorny? He's the limit. Don't get in his bad books if you can help it."

"I guess we're there already," said Andy softly.

"Come on over this way," said Jack suddenly, as he linked his arms in those of the Racer boys. They noted that two other lads were approaching.

"Why, what's the matter?" asked Andy. "Don't you want to meet those fellows?" for Jack had turned aside.

"No," answered their new chum.

"Why not?" Frank wanted to know.

"Oh, that tall one is Gerald Welter, and he thinks he's the cock of the walk. He's a sort of leader among a certain crowd here, and he's always trying to pick a quarrel. I always keep out of his way."

"Who's with him?" inquired Andy.

"That's Luke Moss, his particular crony, and Luke is about as bad as Gerald. They'll get in a fight with you if they can. They always do with new fellows."

"Well, I don't know as I'd mind much," replied Frank, looking critically at Gerald as the latter swaggered past.

"Oh, you don't want to do that!" exclaimed Jack in some alarm. "He's a hard hitter and a great scrapper."

"Well, I'm something of a hard hitter myself," calmly said Frank. "I'm not looking for a fight, but I'm not going to run away from any fellow here. If I've got to fight I'll do it."

"And so will I!" exclaimed Andy.

The boys walked on a little farther until the sound of a bell was borne to them across the campus.

"Supper!" cried Jack. "Come on, Frank and Andy. You'll have to sit at the freshman table, but that's close to mine. I'll show you the way."

The food was fairly good, though as Frank and Andy said afterward, there might have been more of it. Following the meal they joined Jack, who introduced them to Ward Platt, his chum, who seemed a nice sort of chap.

"We'll stroll about a bit," said Jack, "and then I have to go in and do some studying. Where are you fellows sleeping?"

Andy named their room number.

"That's just around the corner of the corridor from mine," spoke Jack. "I'll try to sneak in and see you after I get through boning away. So long."

Neither Frank nor Andy thought it wise to speak about the broken bed yet. They wanted to await developments. As they started for their room they were met at the entrance of the dormitory by Professor Callum.

"Humph! So you are quartered here!" he exclaimed, eyeing them with no friendly glance. "Well, I want to warn you that I will tolerate no nonsense in this building. I am in charge. No nonsense, mind! I am now going to report you to Dr. Doolittle."

Frank and Andy walked on in silence for a moment.

"I guess he's going to make trouble for us, if he can," observed the older lad at length.

"It seems so," agreed Andy. His voice was despondent. They reached their room and lighted the gas. It burned dimly for the tips were old fashioned. "Say, this is the limit!" exclaimed the younger lad. "We can't see to read by that. And look at this room! It gives me the creeps. Say, Frank, this is the extreme edge. A punk school, no athletics, a dub crowd of fellows, except maybe one or two and a professor down on you from the start! I'll tell you what we'll do! Let's go back home! I can't stand this!"

Frank was silent for a moment. He gazed about the dismal room, and out over the dark and deserted campus. He looked in the direction of the neglected baseball field. Then he walked over and put his arm around his brother's shoulder.

"Andy," he said, "this is a pretty tough place, I'll admit. It doesn't seem as if we could stand it, but I believe there is good stuff in Riverview. Some of the fellows have the making of good football or baseball players in them, to say nothing of a rowing crew. I've been sizing them up.

"It's true there must be something wrong with Dr. Doolittle's management, but probably he's doing the best he can. I don't like to desert in the face of trouble, and I'll tell you what I'm going to do."

"What, Frank?"

"I'm going to stick it out right here, and see what I can do. Are you with me? Will you stick?"

"By Jove! I will!" cried the younger brother, and their hands met in a firm clasp. Though Riverview Hall did not know it, the dawn of a better day was breaking with the advent of the Racer boys.

---

ALMOST CAUGHT

Frank and Andy were preparing for bed. It was a bit early, but they were tired with their day's travel. There was no necessity for study, and, as the younger lad had said, it would be hard to read by the poor gas light. So there was nothing to do but to turn in.

"But I know what I'm going to do, if the room we are assigned to permanently has such poor light as this," said Frank as he took off his coat.

"What?" inquired Andy, pausing in the midst of the same operation.

"Get some new gas tips that will give some illumination. That's all it needs. The pipes are big enough, all it needs is new tips. I should think Dr. Doolittle would think of that."

"Oh, he's probably thinking of a Greek root or how to translate some Hindoo phrase into modern Dutch."

"I shouldn't wonder."

"Oh, but say, don't you wish you were back at Harbor View?" asked Andy. "Think of the good times we had! Of the jokes I played on Chet Sedley! Of how we went after the whale, yes, and even being shut up in the cave, with the rising tide, by that Shallock fellow wasn't so bad—after we got out. Say, don't you wish you were back there, Frank?"

"No, I don't. This place is pretty tough, but I'm going to make myself like it, and stick."

"Oh, I guess you won't have to try to like it very hard."

"What do you mean?" and the older lad gazed at his brother in some astonishment.

"Oh, come off now! Don't pretend ignorance. I know why you want to stay all right!"

"Why?"

"Because that girl—the one we met on the boat, Gertrude Morton—lives near here. You're thinking you'll meet her again. I saw you giving her the friendly look as she got off the boat. That's why you want to linger here, even if the school is punk."

Frank did not answer. He made a jump for the bed, grabbed up a pillow and let it fly at his brother with such good aim that it struck Andy full in the face, and smothered the good-natured "joshing" he was keeping up against Frank.

"There!" cried the older lad gaily. "If you want another just say so!"

"Two can play at this game!" exclaimed Andy with a laugh, as he sent back the pillow with certain aim. "How's that? A strike all right, I guess."

"And here's another!" exclaimed Frank, as a second pillow went hurtling across the room.

The harmless fight was on in earnest now and the pillows went back and forth fast and furiously. There were only four of the soft headrests, but the brothers kept them constantly in use and the air seemed full of the white things as they were exchanged.

The brothers circled about the room, seeking for an advantage. Once Frank ducked and the pillow Andy had thrown went sailing over his head, striking a window, the shade of which was drawn down. In an instant the shade went whizzing to the top of the roller.

"Wow! Nothing the matter with the spring in that curtain!" exclaimed Frank.

"Pull it down! Quick!" called Andy, ceasing hostilities for a moment. "Old Thorny Callum, or some of the other profs may spot us from outside and make a row. Pull it down."

Frank obliged and the battle was renewed. It went on for several seconds, when Frank made a miscalculation and his pillow went into the gas jet.

Fortunately the cloth did not take fire, but the gas was blown out and the room was plunged in sudden darkness.

"Hurry up! Shut off the gas or we'll fill the place with it!" cried Frank.

"I'll light it," said Andy, fumbling about in the darkness for a match.

"No, shut it off first. There may be an explosion."

Thereupon Andy stumbled about in the blackness, barking his shins on a chair and stubbing his toe over a big dictionary that had fallen from the table. But finally the gas was turned off.

Frank then opened a window and let out the choking fumes, for, by reason of Andy's delay, considerable of the vapor had escaped. They lighted the jet a few minutes later.

Andy was about to resume the pillow fight, for he was a fun-loving lad and seldom wanted to stop any sport once it was started. He was just about to launch one of the soft missiles at his brother when there came a sharp but gentle tap on the door.

"Who's there?" asked Frank.

"It's me—Jack Sanderson," was the whispered reply. "What in the name of the Seven Sacred Snakes are you fellows up to? Old Callum is on the warpath. He's sneaking down from his room to catch you. Hop into bed, even if you aren't undressed. I just slipped down the back way to warn you. Cheese it, here he comes! I'll see you later."

The brothers heard the rapid retreat of shoeless feet.

"Gee horse!" exclaimed Andy. "He sure has it in for us. If he catches us—"

"Don't let him!" exclaimed Frank in a whisper. "Slip your night shirt on over your clothes and hop in bed. I'll douse the glim."

No sooner had this been done, and the brothers had only time to pull the bed clothes up over themselves when there came a loud and imperative summons on their door.

A hearty snore issued from Frank. It was a good imitation. Once more the knock, followed by another snore.

"Go ahead! Help me out!" whispered the older lad to his brother. "Can't you snore too?"

Andy did so. The knock was repeated for the third time and a gruff voice followed, saying:

"Come! Come, young gentlemen. I know you are not asleep. You are up to some mischief, I'm sure. I demand to be admitted at once!"

"Who's there?" asked Frank, simulating a sleepy yawn. "Is any one knocking?"

"Is anyone knocking? I should say there was!" came the rasping voice of Professor Callum. "Let me in instantly. Such conduct is disgraceful. Let me in."

"Come in," called Andy, also yawning. "The door is not locked. But who is it?"

"It is I—Professor Callum," was the reply as the door opened. There was a gasp of surprise from the crabbed instructor as he encountered intense darkness. He had expected to catch the boys with the gas lighted.

He struck a match, and saw two apparently innocent faces gazing at him in mild wonder from the beds. The professor's jaw dropped in chagrin.

"Why—er—that is—I heard noises coming from this room," he said severely. "It is against the rules. But you—you are in bed."

"Yes, Professor," spoke Frank calmly. "We retired early as we were weary. Ahem!"

"But I am sure I heard some noise. What was it?"

"I'm afraid I snore rather loudly when I sleep," said Frank innocently, "and my brother is also addicted to that habit, are you not, Andy?" He gazed innocently at his brother.

"Yes, I am sorry to say that I am," spoke Andy.

"Ouch! My!" suddenly exclaimed the professor. The room was plunged in darkness again, for the match had burned the teacher's fingers and he had dropped it.

"Did you say anything, Professor?" asked Frank gently.

Andy had to stuff the end of the sheet in his mouth to prevent his laughter from being heard.

"I thought I heard you say something," went on Frank.

"Humph! Let there be no more of this levity!" snarled Mr. Callum. He turned and hastily left the room, not taking the trouble to light any more matches to investigate further. The brothers could hear him tramping down the corridor.

"Get up and shut the door, then light the gas again," said Frank. "But turn it low, Andy."

His brother obeyed. Then both began to pick up the pillows which were still scattered about the room. Fortunately in the flickering light of his match Professor Callum had not observed them, or the snores of Frank and his brother would not have availed them. As it was they had had a narrow escape.

"Want to have another go at it?" asked Andy, as he began to undress in earnest now.

"No, I guess we've had enough for one night. I say though—"

Frank paused with the sentence unfinished for there came another knock at the door. The two brothers looked at each other with startled faces. Who could it be this time?

---

A BULLY DEFIED

"Why don't you answer the knock, Andy?" whispered Frank, after a pause.

"Why don't you go yourself? I'm going to hop into bed again. You douse the glim. You're nearer to it than I am."

Andy crossed the room on tiptoe, and Frank was just reaching up to the gas. They both thought Professor Callum had returned, thinking to catch them. Such things had been known to happen among students.

The knock was repeated, but this time it was given in a peculiar manner. There were two light taps, a pause, then a heavy tap, then three light ones.

"That's no professor rapping," whispered Andy.

"Just what I was thinking," responded Frank. "I guess it's safe to open the door." He swung the portal wide, not taking the trouble to turn down the gas, and saw the smiling face of Jack Sanderson.

"I thought you fellows were never going to open up," complained the newcomer as he quickly slid in, and shut the door after him. "Did he come? Did he catch you?"

"Yes—and no," replied Frank. "Thanks to your tip we were in bed when Thorny paid his little visit. He burned his fingers with a match and went out in a hurry."

"Burned his fingers? Say, that's a good one all right! It's the first time anybody's put anything over on him in a long while. Say, you fellows are all to the rice pudding."

"Oh, we didn't do it," explained Andy modestly. "He was so interested in hearing us snore that he forget he held the fire-stick."

"Snored did you?" gasped Jack in delight. "Better and better! Say, I'm glad you chaps came to Riverview. We need some one like you to wake up this ancient place."

"Is it safe to talk here?" asked Frank, for there were several things he wanted to know from some student who had been at the school long enough to be an authority.

"Oh, yes, I don't believe Thorny will come back," was Jack's opinion. "His room is near mine, and I waited until he went in before I came out again. I wondered what he was muttering about, but it must have been his burned fingers. Crackey! That was great, and he did it himself! He can't blame anyone. Yes, fire away. I can stay a little while longer, then I've got to get back to my den and bone on Latin. Beastly stuff, isn't it?"

"Oh, it's not so bad," said Frank, who really liked studying. "But what I wanted to ask you was what ails this place, anyhow?"

Jack looked about the room before replying.

"Guess we forgot our manners," said Andy. "Have a chair. Frank and I will take the beds. Now fire away. We've never been to such a queer school as this, and we can't understand it."

"It's simple enough," explained Jack. "In the first place this is quite an old institution. I mean it was founded a long time ago, but of course most of the buildings are comparatively new—they don't look it but they are. Dr. Doolittle is a fine scholar, too. Probably more of a scholar than he is a business man, and the same thing can be said of the board of trustees. Some of them are old fogies, but I don't mean any disrespect. They simply don't know how to run things.

"The school used to be better than it is now. Then a lot of rich men's sons came here, and they had a fine rowing crew, a good eleven and a crackerjack nine. That's what I've been told, for of course it was before my time. This is my second year."

"How did you ever happen to come back?" asked Frank, "after you saw what it was?"

"I didn't want to, but dad figured out that as long as I was doing well in my studies it didn't make any difference whether I rowed on a crew or not."

"Do you row?" asked Andy eagerly.

"A little," admitted their visitor modestly.

"That's what we like," explained Frank. "We hoped we'd get a whack at it here, but—nixy I guess."

"We saw a dandy shell as we were coming up," went on the younger lad. "It was at some college below here."

"Yes, that was at Waterside Hall. They have a fine crew—in fact they have good teams in all lines. They used to be a rival of Riverview, but that was years ago. They don't even take the trouble to challenge us now."

"That's pretty tough," said Frank softly.

"It sure is," admitted Jack. "Things have been going from bad to worse. The nine and eleven didn't get any support from the school heads, and gradually interest in them died out. Then the crew melted away, and we had a good one, too, with a dandy shell—a four-oared one.

"Money matters grew worse," went on Jack. "Dr. Doolittle was just able to make things go and that's about all. Gradually a lot of fellows came who didn't care anything about sport. Maybe they would have if there'd been any to care about, but there wasn't. You can see for yourself how things are. The diamond hasn't been used this year. We tried to get up a football eleven a few weeks ago, but after a little practice we had to drop it."

"Why?" Andy wanted to know.

"Well, some of the fellows were sissies and found fault because they barked their shins. Then, too, old Thorny put his foot down because some of us missed class one day after a stiff bit of practice. Dr. Doolittle goes a good bit by what Thorny says, and he gave us a lecture. The next day three fellows showed up for practice and—the eleven was dead.

"That's how things have gone. It's punk, I admit, for there is a chance of making this a good school, and one that would have a standing in athletics. But the doctor needs cash to make it go. I understand he's thinking of selling a half interest to some man who has a pile of money. The man is coming in a little while to look the ground over. But if he'll take my advice he'll invest his cash in a wild-cat gold mine. He'd stand a better chance with it than at Riverview. It's a shame that such a thing is true—but it is."

"Can't anything be done?" asked Frank.

"Hanged if I know," replied Jack. "The fellows don't seem to care to start anything. I guess we'll just have to let things slide. I'm glad to know you chaps, anyhow. Come and see me sometime. There are a few of us who sort of hang together. Ward Platt rooms with me. He's a fine all-'round athlete, and he's sore that there isn't something going on here.

"He sure was broken hearted after he got here. He wanted to quit the worst way, and go to Waterside Hall. But his guardian—both his parents are dead you know—his guardian put his foot down. It seems that he is a friend of Dr. Doolittle's, and has a great respect for the doctor's learning. He's right, there, too, but a fellow has to have some fun."

"Sure thing," agreed Frank.

"And so it goes," concluded Jack. "There, I've told you all I know, and I've stayed longer than I ought to, but when I get to talking it's hard to stop. Now I'm going to cut."

"Maybe that money man will take an interest after all," suggested Andy;

"I doubt it;" and with that Jack was gone.

The brothers talked over his visit as they finished getting ready for bed. Frank was awake for some time after turning in. He was thinking of the conditions at Riverview and wondering what he and Andy could do to better them. It seemed a hopeless task. Frank dreamed that he had organized a crew and was rowing in a hotly contested race when he fell overboard. He could feel the cold water on his feet, and then a voice cried:

"Say, are you going to sleep all day? The rising bell has given its morning tinkle!"

Frank opened his eyes to see his brother standing at the foot of the bed with a suspended water pitcher. Frank still felt the dampness on his feet.

"What the mischief are you doing, Andy?" he demanded, drawing his pedal extremities under the covers.

"This is my new alarm clock," explained the younger lad. "I wanted to awaken you, but I desired to do it in a gentle manner, so I poured water on your tootsie-wootsies. Why do you sleep with your feet sticking out, anyhow?"

"Oh, that's some more of your jokes!" complained Frank. "But is it really morning?"

"If it isn't, it's a good imitation of it, and my stomach has its usual hungry feeling for breakfast. Come on—move lively, as the street car conductors say."

There was a goodly attendance at chapel, whither the boys went after the morning meal. Dr. Doolittle proved to be an interesting talker.

"I am pleased to welcome so many students at the start of the fall term," said the good doctor, after the devotional exercises. "I also understand that there are a number of newcomers. I hope and trust that you boys who have been here for some time will welcome them, and make them feel at home.

"The lessons will begin as usual to-day, for most of the new classes are now formed. I presume matters will go on as usual, and that you boys will have your sports. I wish to add a word of caution. Do not devote too much time to them, to the exclusion of your studies."

"No danger of that," murmured Jack Sanderson, who sat near Frank and Andy.

"I may have some important news for you in a few days," went on the doctor. "I apprehend—er—that is, I hope—that extensive improvements may soon be made at Riverview Hall. We are planning—er—well, I think I will say no more at present. I think you will see that the experiment—Oh, I am not in the physics class, am I?" and the principal, whose absent-mindedness had led him into confusion, stopped short and dismissed the students.

"I guess he's referring to that man with money that I was speaking of," said Jack, as he filed out with the Racer boys. "Well, I hope he makes good, that's all. I'm aching for a good row."

"So am I!" exclaimed Frank. "Isn't there some kind of a boat on the river that we can hire?"

"I don't know. We'll see after school. I'm off to that punky Latin class now. So-long."

The students dispersed to their various classes. Andy and Frank noted that there was little enthusiasm. There was none of the cheerful spirit usually manifested at schools or colleges. None of the "horse-play" in which an extra head of "steam" is safely let off. True, some of the boys ran about and pulled or hauled their companions, but this was soon over and they went in comparative silence to their recitations.

"Whew! This is like a funeral!" exclaimed Andy.

"It sure is," agreed Frank.

The Racer boys did not find their first day of study hard. They were, in fact, a little ahead of their class and were complimented by Professor Dickson in mathematics. But it was a different story in the Latin recitation, over which "Old Thorny," as he was called, presided.

Frank failed in giving some case endings, and Professor Callum, looking up from his book, exclaimed with a sour smile:

"I see you are not well prepared, Racer. You remain after class and write me fifty lines of Latin prose."

It was a stiff dose, but Frank never flinched. He realized that this was the first clash with the vindictive teacher, and part of his revenge for the interference in the episode on the boat.

"All right, I can stand it if he can," thought Frank. "And I'd do the same thing over again if Miss Gertrude was in trouble."

Somehow the thought of the pretty girl seemed to make his task less hard.

Nor did Andy come out scathless for he slipped up on a comparatively simple question in Latin conjugation, one that he knew perfectly well. But perhaps he was nervous over his brother's fate.

"Ah, another Racer fallen," said the professor with an attempt at a joke. "Fifty lines. Next!"

Frank and Andy finished their tasks about the same time. They found Jack waiting for them outside the recitation hall.

"Are you through?" he asked.

"Yes—done for to-day, and done brown," said Frank.

"So am I. I heard about you. Thorny can be mean when he wants to. But come on. We'll go down to the river. I'm glad I've found somebody who likes the water. Here comes Ward. Maybe we can find a boat."

The four lads were strolling along toward the stream, when Jack, looking up, saw approaching Gerald Welter and Luke Moss, his crony.

"Let's go the other way," proposed Jack. "No use meeting those two fellows. They may say something and we'll get in a row."

"What of it?" asked Frank, who didn't like the idea of running away.

"He may want to fight," said Ward.

"Let him," said Frank. "I'm not going around the other way on his account. Come on. We've as good a right to go this path as he has."

"All right," assented Jack, with a shrug of his shoulders. "But don't say we didn't warn you."

As the bully and his crony came opposite the four lads, Jack and Ward touched their hats in a form of salute. Frank and Andy did not. At once Gerald came to a halt and there was an ugly look on his face.

"Say, Freshies!" he exclaimed, looking at Frank and Andy, "Don't you know enough to tip your hats to your superiors."

"I do when I see them," spoke Frank quietly.

"What's that?" cried Luke. "Did you hear that, Gerald?"

"I sure did, and I'll make him pay for it. Look here, you two Fresh—"

"They've just come," broke in Jack. "They didn't know it was the custom to tip to the juniors."

"That's their lookout," sneered Gerald. "You can tip twice now, to make up for it."

He paused and glared threateningly at Frank and Andy. Neither of them made a motion toward his cap.

"Well?" fairly shouted the bully.

"If you're through speaking we'll go on," and Frank took a step forward.

"No, you don't! Not until you tip to us!" exclaimed Gerald.

"Then we'll have to stay here a long time," said Frank with a smile, "for we're not going to tip. This isn't a college. If it was we'd conform to the custom. As it stands, we're not going to. Are we, Andy?"

"Not on your life!"

"Yes, you are!" fairly snarled the bully. "I'll make you!"

He made a grab for Frank's cap. Our hero stepped back, not wishing to come to a clash if he could avoid it. But the temper of Gerald was aroused. He leaped forward and made another grab. Frank shoved his arm to one side.

"Oh, ho! You want to fight, do you?" sneered the bully. "I can give you all you want of that!" He drew back his fist, but he was not prepared for what followed, for with a quick left-hander Frank reached his chin and Gerald Welter went over backward, falling on the soft grass with a thud.

---

MISS MORTON'S TROUBLES

"Whew! Now you have done it!" gasped Jack, as he saw the bully go to earth.

"I guess Frank can take care of himself," said Andy calmly.

Ward Platt looked as if he wanted to take a hand in the hostilities himself, now that someone had started them. His eyes were bright with anticipation, and he clenched his fists as if ready for the fray.

Luke Moss looked horrified that his crony should thus be treated. He sprang toward the fallen bully.

"Let me alone!" snarled Gerald. "I'm all right. I'll make him pay for this."

He managed to get to his feet, though he staggered a bit, for Frank's blow had not been a light one.

"You—you dared to hit me—me!" gasped Gerald as he advanced toward our hero.

"I'm sorry I had to, but it was hit or be hit," said Frank calmly. "You spoke of fighting, you know."

"Yes, and I'll give you all you want!" fairly yelled the bully. "I'll show you who's boss here!"

He sprang toward Frank, but the latter never moved. He shifted his weight to the other foot and calmly awaited the onslaught.

Gerald had almost reached him, and there was every prospect of a fight, when Luke, who had been hanging in the background, being too great a coward to risk hostilities with any of Frank's companions, suddenly uttered a cry.

"Cheese it! Here comes Thorny!" he exclaimed. "He'll have us all up on the platform if he thinks we're fighting."

"Cut for it!" gasped Jack.

"I'll stick it out," declared Frank.

But the others did not think it wise. Even the vindictiveness of Gerald seemed to ooze away. He glared at Frank, but his hands dropped to his side.

"Come on," called Luke. "He doesn't suspect anything yet"

"All right, but I'm not done with you, Fresh!" called the bully to Frank. "I'll make you wish you'd never come to Riverview."

"I'll meet you any time you say," replied Frank calmly. "And I'll be delighted to give you satisfaction. I'm not going to tip my cap, either, and I'd advise the others to cut out that silly custom."

"You'll tip it all right when I'm through with you," snarled the bully.

Then he and his crony turned aside while our four friends continued on their way to the river. Professor Thorndyke Callum passed them with a frigid nod, and the boys congratulated themselves that he had been sighted in time, for he had a particular horror of fighting and meted out severe punishment to those whom he caught.

"Say, this is the best thing I've seen since I came here," said Ward admiringly to Frank. "Gee! but you sent him down all right. Where did you get that punch?"

"Oh, I took boxing lessons," said Frank modestly. "But it's time that fellow was taken down a peg. How did you fellows let him get such a hold over you?"

"Oh, he was here when we came," explained Jack, "and he beat up all the fellows who wouldn't do as he wanted them to. He never met any one who could trim him I guess."

"I don't know that I can trim him," said Frank, "but I'll try, if I get a chance. I'm not going to tip my cap to him, or to any of the juniors."

"There'll be a row," predicted Ward.

"Let it come," said Andy easily. "We like trouble; eh, Frank?"

"Sure, if it comes our way we're not going to dodge it. But how does it come that such a 'sport,' as I have no doubt this Welter thinks himself to be, attends here at such a run-down school as Riverview?"

"He was expelled from Waterside," explained Jack, "and he came here. He's an example of a big fish in a little puddle. He has plenty of money and he lords it over most of the fellows. I guess that's why he stays on. He likes the power he has."

"Well, he's not going to boss me, even if he is a junior," declared the elder Racer lad. "I'm willing to conform to the usual unwritten rules of a school, but not for such fellows as Welter. Now come on, and we'll see if we can't find something to row."

But Frank was not destined to get on the water that day. As he and his companions were nearing the stream Andy uttered an exclamation.

"Look who's here!" he said to his brother. Glancing to where he pointed Frank saw approaching two girls. One was a stranger to him but he quickly recognized the other as Miss Gertrude Morton.

"Do you know 'em?" asked Jack quickly.

"One," answered Frank.

"Oh ho! Then don't let us butt in on a date with the fair damsels," said Ward quickly. "Come on, fellows, Frank has his hands full."

"Nothing of the sort!" objected Frank quickly. "I didn't expect to meet them. Here, don't go away."

But the other three had turned down a side road, looking back with mocking grins on their faces.

"Hang it all!" exclaimed Frank. "Leaving me in the lurch this way. Andy at least might have stayed. Well, I'm not going to run." Frank was not a coward in more meanings than one.

"How do you do, Mr. Racer?" asked Miss Morton, as she approached. "I didn't expect to meet you here. This is my friend, Miss Grace Knox. Grace, this is the gentleman I was telling you about—he met me on the steamer."

"I trust you have not had any more trouble with Mr. Callum," Frank said.

"Oh, no, I haven't even seen him," said Gertrude. "Oh, but he frightened me so!"

"It must have been terrible," commented Miss Knox.

"I've told Grace all about it," Gertrude went on. "She and I are great chums. We go to the same school. It's not far from Riverview Hall, and sometimes we walk home this way."

"I—I hope you do it often," said Frank gallantly.

The girls laughed but they were not ill-pleased.

"How do you like it here?" asked Gertrude.

"Oh, it's too early to say yet," replied the lad. "My brother and I hope to have some fun. But I would be very glad if I could do anything to help you, Miss Gertrude. Is the trouble with Professor Callum a serious one?"

"Most money troubles are serious," said the girl with a sigh. "It's no secret. My mother is a widow, and when poor papa died several years ago he left her some stock or bond shares, in some concern. I don't know just what they were.

"When it came time for me to leave high school and go to Fuller Academy where Grace and I attend, mother needed some extra money. She went to a lawyer who said she could raise money on the stocks or bonds. As it happened Mr. Callum had some to lend and we borrowed it, on a note thinking we could sell the bonds when we had to pay it.

"Everything seemed to be all right, but recently Mr. Callum wanted his money back. Mother and I thought it would be easy enough to take the bonds to some bank, raise the money and pay off the professor. But we found we couldn't."

"Why not?" asked Frank.

"Because it seems that the bonds were worthless. No one would take them, and so we couldn't raise the money to pay back Mr. Callum. He was very angry and though we did our best we have not been able to sell the bonds. So he hasn't been paid. That was what he was speaking to me about on the boat. Oh, if he had taken hold of me I should have fainted I'm sure."

"He's a brute!" exclaimed Frank.

"Poor Gertrude," whispered Grace, putting her arm around her chum.

"And so that is the story of our trouble," went on the girl. "Poor mother is much worried and doesn't know what to do. Mr. Callum threatens to bring suit and take our little home away from us. We have tried everything but nothing seems to be of any use."

"I wish I could help you!" said Frank eagerly. "My father is in business in New York, and perhaps he could give your mother some advice about the bonds. I wish you'd let me ask him."

"I'll speak to mamma about it," said Gertrude. "But we must hurry on, Grace. I have a lot of lessons to study."

"Do you walk this way every day after school?" asked Frank boldly.

"Sometimes—that is nearly every day," answered Gertrude, with a blush.

"I'm going to write to my father," said Frank eagerly. "If you will get me the name of the company who issued the bonds I may be able to help you. Perhaps I shall see you here to-morrow."

"Perhaps," admitted the girl shyly, and then she and her chum turned away.

Frank stood for a moment, in a sort of daydream. It was rudely interrupted by a chorus of excited shouts on the river, followed by others close at hand.

"Ha! What's that?" exclaimed Frank. He broke into a run, and, turning down a path was met by his brother and the two chums.

"What's the matter?" cried Frank.

"The Waterside Hall rowing shell just passed here and it upset!" exclaimed Jack. "It hit an old skiff that was moored at our boathouse, but it must have got adrift. Come down this way and you can see 'em better. They're all in the water, but they can swim like fishes, so there's no danger."

"Gee! But they went over suddenly!" said Andy. "All in the water at once. There they are!"

Frank peered through a fringe of bushes and saw nine forms struggling in the river about a long, slender racing shell. As he looked one of the rowers threw up his hands, uttered a cry, and sank from sight.

---

TO THE RESCUE

"Look! Look!" cried Andy.

"He's drowning!" yelled another of the excited lads on the bank.

"Must have been taken with a cramp!" exclaimed Jack.

"And the others are either too much occupied in saving themselves, or they don't know he's gone down!" added Frank. While he was speaking he was rapidly divesting himself of his shoes and his heavier articles of clothing.

"Where are you going?" demanded Andy.

"To save him of course!"

Frank plunged into the river and with long, even strokes headed for the spot where the unfortunate oarsman had gone down. By this time the others had succeeded in getting a hold on the overturned shell.

A moment later they seemed aware that one of their number was missing, and after some excited shouts and calls the lad nearest the bow of the shell let go and dived, evidently with the intention of bringing up his comrade.

"He's too far to the left," commented Andy in a low voice. "Frank stands a better chance of getting him."

"I wonder why some of the others don't go after him?" remarked Jack. "What's the matter with them?"

"Maybe they're afraid of getting cramps, too," suggested Ward. "They might take a chance, though."

"There the fellow comes up who dived down," exclaimed Andy. "He couldn't locate him."

"Yes, and there's the fellow who had a cramp!" cried Ward, pointing some distance away from the slowly drifting shell. A body shot into view. A hand and arm were raised in a mute appeal for help, and then the lad went down for the second time. But the current of the river was carrying him toward Frank, who was swimming strongly.

The elder Racer lad had seen the boy rise, and changed his course accordingly. A little later, he, too, disappeared from sight.

"Frank's gone!" gasped Jack.

"Not him," said Andy confidently. "Frank can swim like a fish on top or under the water. Once he stayed under two full minutes. He's probably taken a deep dive. Watch and you'll see him come up!"

Eagerly the lads on the shore watched. It seemed like many minutes but in reality it was only a few seconds before Frank reappeared.

"He hasn't got him!" cried Ward.

"Then he'll go down again," said Andy grimly, and Frank did. Meanwhile the lads on the shell were helplessly clinging there. They saw Frank's brave efforts and realized that he was more expert than any of them.

"There he comes!" was the excited cry raised in a chorus by the three on the bank as Frank shot up from the water and encircled in one arm was the helpless and limp form of the half-drowned lad. There came a faint cheer from those on the shell, toward which Frank struck out.

"It won't do him any good when he does get there," said Andy excitedly. "They can't right it and put that chap aboard. We ought to go out in a boat. Isn't there any at the boathouse, fellows?"

"A couple of old ones I guess," answered Jack. "Come on, let's look."

They were not far from the ruin that passed for a boathouse, and as they approached they saw a fairly-good boat drawn up on the shore.

"That will do!" cried Andy. "That wasn't here the day we came."

"No, that belongs to Bill Spalter, who does odd jobs around the school," hurriedly explained Ward. "I guess you can take it."

Andy began shoving off the craft.

"You come with me, Jack," he said. "That's about all it will hold," he added to Ward, who nodded comprehendingly.

With strong strokes the two lads pulled toward where Frank was swimming with his burden. Shouts from those on the shell told him someone was coming to the rescue and Frank turned to where they pointed back of him, and swam to meet his brother.

"He's pretty far gone, but I guess we can bring him around," panted the elder Racer lad, as he helped Andy and Jack get the rescued one into the boat. "Get ashore as fast as you can," he added as he himself clambered in.

It was fortunate that Frank and Andy knew the rules for reviving partially drowned persons. They worked vigorously over the unconscious lad when they reached the platform about the boathouse, and soon had most of the water out of his lungs. Then they tried artificial respiration.

"This is like the time when we rescued Paul," said Andy, referring to their summer spent at Harbor View.

"Don't talk—work," advised Frank. And they did work to such advantage that in a little while the rescued one opened his eyes.

"He's all right now," said Frank, with a sigh of relief. "But it was a close call. He had a bad cramp."

"Where are the others?" asked the lad faintly.

"They're all right," answered Jack. "They've got the shell ashore now and righted. They'll be here for you soon."

"You fellows are all right!" declared the lad who had been so near death. "Crawford is my name, Tom Crawford. I'm from Waterside."

"We're from Riverview," spoke Jack, and he named himself and his companions. "Are you all right now?"

"I guess so—yes, I'm all right," and Tom Crawford, who seemed to be a manly young chap, proved his words by walking about. "A little weak in the legs," he confessed with a smile.

"We can row you to your school," suggested Frank, "though this boat isn't very good."

"Oh, no, thanks, I wouldn't think of troubling you. I can walk, I guess."

"You won't have to. Here comes the shell after you," said Andy. "How did you come to upset?"

"It was my fault, I guess. I don't pull a very good stroke yet. You see we're only the freshman crew, but some of the fellows are better than I. I caught a crab, when we were trying to avoid an old boat, and we went over. Then I got a cramp. But it was bully of you to come out and get me," he added, taking Frank's hand in a firm clasp. "I'll never forget it. You saved my life."

"Pshaw! Any one would have done it," said Frank.

There were more thanks and congratulations from the other members of the freshman eight when they reached what passed as the landing stage for the Riverview boathouse. Frank and Andy, though, noticed that there was something of a coldness between their two chums and the other school lads.

"What's the reason for that?" asked Frank when the shell had been rowed away, after renewed thanks on the part of Tom Crawford. "Why, aren't you friendly with those fellows?"

"Well, they've always been our rivals," explained Jack. "There is considerable jealous feeling I guess, just as there is between us and Milton Academy. That's another school farther up the river. You see we used to play both of them on the diamond and gridiron, as well as race them on the river. But of late years there has been nothing of that sort."

"It ought to be changed," declared Frank, and, though the others agreed with him, they saw no way of bringing it about.

"Well, it's getting late and we'd better be getting back to school," said Jack, after a pause. "I should think you'd want to change your togs, Frank."

"I do. I'm a pretty looking sight, I guess. Come on."

As Frank was going to his room, he met in the corridor Professor Callum. The crabbed instructor looked at the wet figure, scowled and rasped out:

"Well, what have you been doing? Falling in the river?"

"I went in to save a lad who had a cramp," explained Frank.

"Humph! Well I want to tell you one thing, Mr. Racer. I don't allow students to dirty up this dormitory. I'm in charge I'd have you know, and the next time you get wet change your clothes before you come in here. We can't be paying janitors to clean after you boys all the while."

Frank said nothing, but kept on to his room.

"Nice pleasant sort of a man; isn't he?" observed Andy grimly.

"Sort of that way," admitted his brother sarcastically.

---

OVER THE RIVER

"Say, but you fellows have this room fixed up in great shape!" complimented Jack Sanderson.

"Yes, it's pippy!" declared Ward Platt after another glance around the apartment. They had called on Frank and Andy in the permanent apartment that had been assigned to them, and their expressions of admiration were called forth by the various ornaments and pictures with which the Racer boys had decorated their study.

"Yes, it's sort of so-so," admitted Frank. "We brought these things with us, and we thought we might as well stick them up. It makes it sort of home-like."

"I should say it did," agreed Jack, as he looked at a pair of fencing foils.

"Do you use these?" asked Ward, indicating two pairs of boxing gloves.

"Oh, Frank and I put them on for fun once in a while," admitted Andy.

"You may need 'em if Gerald Welter keeps his word and gets into a fight with you," said Jack with a smile at Frank.

"Oh, I'm not worrying. But I haven't seen him lately. Where has he been?"

This was several days after the rescue of Tom Crawford from the river, and during the interim our heroes had settled down into the life and ways of Riverview Hall.

"Oh, Welter," answered Ward. "I heard he went off on a little spree with Luke Moss. They came in late and were caught by Thorny. He made them stay in their rooms three days."

"So, that's the how of it," commented Frank. "Thorny seems to be right on the job."

"You'd have thought so if you'd seen him bullying that little Miss Morton," commented Andy. "By the way, Frank, what did she have to say to you that day you met her?"

"Yes, and who was the pretty girl with her?" Jack wanted to know.

"That was Grace Knox," said Frank, "and Miss Morton was telling me about her money troubles with Thorny. It's a shame, and I'm going to see if dad can't do something about those bonds," he added to his brother, when he had related the circumstances.

"I believe he could," declared Andy. "It's worth trying, anyhow. But say, speaking of money matters, when is that millionaire coming here to invest in Riverview stock?" he asked of Jack. "I wish he'd hurry up, for if we're going to have any money to spend on the gridiron or in getting a racing shell we'd better do it before cold weather sets in."

"I haven't heard anything about that lately," replied Jack. "But I don't believe it will pan out in time for this year. We used to row pretty late on the river though, much later than is usual at other schools or colleges. We have a fine course here."

"But no boats," said Frank regretfully. "Well, I've got to do some boning. Don't let me stop the talk though; go right on."

"No, we've got to go," announced Jack. "I'm not as well up on to-morrow's Latin as I ought to be." Thereupon the two visitors took their departure and Frank and Andy did some studying.

"I'm going for a row to-morrow afternoon," said the elder lad, after a period of silence. "Want to come?"

"What are you going to row in?"

"Bill Spalter said I could take his boat. It isn't so bad, though it's awful slow and heavy. I'd almost go rowing in a tub, just to get on the water again."

"So would I. I'm with you."

Jack and Ward had some lessons to make up the next day, and could not join our heroes. Frank and Andy hastened down to the river, the waters of which were sparkling in the sun.

"Gee, but it's a fine day!" exclaimed Andy. "I'd like to have some fun."

"With—er—lobsters, for instance?" asked Frank with a sly smile, referring to the time when a joke was turned on his brother, as related in "The Racer Boys."

"Not on your life—no! But say with that bully Welter. I saw him to-day, and he sneered at me."

"He didn't try to make you tip your cap, did he?"

"I should say not! I'd have tackled him if he had, though he's bigger than I am."

"Leave him to me," said Frank significantly.

They rowed leisurely down the river, for they had finished their lessons early that day and had several hours to themselves.

"This is a clumsy old tub, but it's great to be out in even this," said Frank. "Oh, if we only had our boats here!"

"I wonder if we couldn't send for them?" ventured Andy.

"It's a little too late this year, but if we stay I've a good notion to do it. Pull a little on your left, we're drifting too near the bank."

Andy did as requested, and, as he looked over his shoulder to see the course, he uttered an exclamation.

"Here comes the Waterside eight! Look how they pull! I wonder if Tom Crawford is in it?"

"That isn't a freshman shell," declared Frank.

"Why not?"

"Freshmen can't row like that. It must be the varsity. I believe it is! Say, they're all right," and Frank paused in his rowing to gaze admiringly at the oncoming shell. Truly it was a pretty sight.

Nearer and nearer it came at a swift pace. Unconsciously both Andy and Frank ceased rowing and their boat drifted with the current. They were nearer the oncoming shell than they realized, especially since the coxswain changed his course slightly to avoid a floating log.

Suddenly above the voice of the steersman monotonously counting the strokes there came a cry.

"Hey, you fellows! Look where you're going! Do you want us to run you down?" The hail came from the shell, and the tones were almost insulting.

"Gee! We are pretty close," said Andy in some alarm. "Pull over, Frank."

The two lads dipped their oars in the water, but the current had them in more of a grip than they counted on. The rowers from Waterside had not ceased their swift strokes and the knife-like shell was fairly tearing through the water.

"Look out! Look out!" yelled several of the scantily-clad rowers. The shell was between the heavy drifting log and the big clumsy rowboat containing Frank and Andy. To steer the shell very much to either side, at the rate it was going, would mean almost certain capsizing.

"What ails you boobs, anyhow?" howled the coxswain. "You ought not to be allowed on the river without a nurse. Get off our course!"

The men had ceased rowing but the shell was still shooting forward under its momentum. A flush came to Frank's tanned face.

"We've got as good a right on this river as you have!" he cried.

"They're from Riverview!" cried a rower. "Soak 'em!"

"Pull away," advised Andy in a low voice.

But it was too late. On came the shell. The rowboat was rapidly drifting and in spite of the efforts of the brothers the two craft came together broadside. There was a splintering of wood and the oar of the bow rower was smashed. The shell careened violently.

"Look out! We're going to capsize!" yelled the excited lads, while the coxswain hurled a volley of abuse at Frank and Andy.

---

THE MILLIONAIRE ARRIVES

Only by the smallest margin was the long narrow racing shell prevented from turning over. Prompt action on the part of the lads in it, who were veteran oarsmen in spite of their years, saved the day. But considerable water was shipped.

As for Andy and Frank, they worked hard with their sculls to send their boat out of the way of the other craft. The current hampered them, and it took considerable muscle to get them where there was no danger for themselves or the lads from Waterside Hall.

Then, when comparative calmness had succeeded the confusion, the looks of all in the shell were turned on our two heroes.

"Say, who are you dubs, anyhow?" demanded the irate coxswain.

"They're from Riverview," put in a rower. "Can't you tell by their sweaters?"

"Well, all I've got to say," went on the coxswain, "is that you fellows ought to stay off this part of the river until you know how to row. You've broken one of our oars and maybe damaged our shell. Why don't you keep near shore until you know how to handle a boat?"

"Yes, and it was my best oar, too," wailed the bow rower ruefully as he gazed at the splintered sweep.

"We ought to duck them!" exclaimed the rower front of him. "It would serve 'em right."

This tirade and abuse had been heaped up so quickly on Andy and Frank that they had not had time to reply to it. But they were far from going to sit still and take it all calmly.

"Look here!" exclaimed Frank, as he held the old tub steady with slow sweeps of the oars, "you fellows may think you own the river, but you don't."

"We have as much right on it as you have," added Andy.

"Hear 'em talk!" jeered the coxswain.

"And what's more," continued the elder Racer lad, "it was as much your fault as ours."

"How do you make that out?" asked a rower amidships.

"Because you are supposed to know the currents of this stream, and we've only been here a few days. If I lived near a stream of water I'd know all about it before very long."

"Aw get out, you're dubs! You don't know how to row!"

"We don't, eh?" demanded Andy. "I'll race any one of you individually in any kind of a craft you like. Don't know how to row!"

"We could row before you fellows knew what a boat or an oar was," declared Frank, and this was probably true, for they had been near the water all their lives and had been trusted out, not too far from shore, alone, when but five years old.

"Well, you want to keep out of our way after this," was all the retort the coxswain could make.

"Yes, you dubs from Riverview haven't any rights on the river since you gave up racing," added another of the Waterside Hall lads.

"Is there such a place as Riverview any more?" asked a third. "I understood it had been sold at auction."

There was a laugh at this, a laugh that brought a flush of anger and shame to the cheeks of Frank and Andy. The laugh still rang in their ears as they rowed away, and its echo seemed to follow them as they disappeared around a bend in the river and saw the shell being pulled back.

"Well?" remarked Andy in a questioning tone, after a long period of silence.

"Um," said Frank, noncommittally. "They're rather a stuck-up crowd. They think they're the whole universe when it comes to rowing, and a bit more. I wish we could take them down a peg. I'd just like to be one of a four-oared-shell crowd to put it all over them. Jove! Wouldn't it be fun to beat the jackets off them?"

"Oh, what's the use?" wearily demanded Andy. "We belong to a dub school, even if we aren't dubs ourselves. There's no use denying it—Riverview is on the fritz and we know it. Everybody else knows it too. I feel like quitting. I'm going to write to dad to-night, and tell him all about it." Clearly the recent happening had taken the spunk out of Andy.

"Look here!" exclaimed Frank vigorously. "There never yet was a Racer who was a quitter, and you're not going to begin. I said we'd stick it out, and we will. We won't give up just because those fellows laughed at us. They'd have some excuse for calling us dubs then. No, sir, we'll stick it out, and if there's any possible way of it I'm going to row those Waterside fellows and beat 'em, too!"

"It isn't possible, Frank."

"I don't care, I'm going to stick, just the same."

"Well, there's some excuse for you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you are older than I am, and you've made more friends already."

"More? Why you've got as many friends as I have."

"There's Miss Morton, and——"

"Oh, cut it out. Is that what's eating you? Say, I thought you looked a bit down in the gills. Now look here, she's got a friend, Miss Knox, and I'll introduce you to her."

"Aw, I don't want to meet any girls," protested Andy with a blush.

"That's all right, you've got to meet her. I promised Miss Morton I'd call on her some night this week. I'm going to have a look at those bonds and then I'm going to see what dad can do about them. I heard that old Thorny made another demand on the widow for the money and she's at her wits' end. I'm going to see Gertrude, and you're coming."

"Oh, I am, eh?" asked Andy rather sarcastically.

"Yes, and you're going to meet her friend. She's going to be there—Gertrude told me so."

"Seems to me you're getting quite familiar on short acquaintance—calling her by her front handle."

"Cut it out, I know what I'm doing."

The two brothers rowed on in silence until they came in sight of the ruined boathouse of Riverview Hall. Then Andy remarked:

"There's Jack and Ward. Going to tell them?"

"Sure," answered his brother. "I want to make a proposition to them."

"What kind?"

"You'll soon hear. I've made up my mind to one thing, and that is, if it's at all possible, Riverview is going to have a racing crew if it's only a four-oared shell."

"Good for you!" cried Andy as he helped his brother to make fast Bill Spalter's boat.

"Where have you fellows been?" demanded Jack Sanderson. "We were looking for you."

"Just for a little jaunt," answered Frank, "and we had quite an experience, too," and he proceeded to relate the particulars of the run-in with the Waterside boys.

"I didn't know they were that kind of chaps," commented Andy.

"They're snobs, of the worst kind," declared Jade. "It didn't use to be so, when Riverview was in her glory. Then our boys used to put it all over those chaps. But now it's different," and he shook his head mournfully.

"Much different," added Ward.

"But why need it be?" asked Frank quickly. "I'm sure there is as good material here as in that school," and he waved his hand down the river. "Why can't we get up a rowing crew? There is still time enough this season. Maybe we could challenge Waterside Hall."

"Where's the money to come from?" asked Jack. "Who'll support the crew?"

"And where's the crew to come from?" asked Ward.

"If we only went in for a four-oared shell it wouldn't take much of a crew," said Frank quickly. "Andy and I are in training, and from what I've seen of you and Jack, you are also. We four could give a good account of ourselves I fancy. Do they have a four-oared varsity shell at Waterside?"

"Yes. Some of the fellows in the eight row in the four—the same ones you had the run-in with to-day."

"Then they are some rowers—believe me," spoke Andy with conviction. "But I'm willing."

"I would like to go in for it!" said Ward decidedly. "I wonder if we could manage it?"

Eagerly the four lads talked it over as they walked up to the school buildings. Frank and Andy were more eager than their companions, perhaps for the reason that the stagnant blood of Riverview had not yet had its effect on them. Jack and Ward would have been glad to see even one four-oared shell carrying the colors of their school, but they did not understand how it could be managed.

"If Riverview was a richer school, or if there was more of a school spirit here, we could do it easily," said Jack.

"Even without the spirit that could soon be brought out if some rich man would endow the school heavily," suggested Ward.

"Well, I'm going to find some way to have a crew," declared Frank determinedly as they parted to go to their respective rooms. "You fellows come and see us to-night and I may have a plan."

As Frank and Andy were about to enter their apartment they were passed in the corridor by Professor Thorndyke Callum. The crabbed teacher did not see them, or, if he did, he took no notice of them. He was speaking to Professor Dickson.

"I have to go away this evening," Mr. Callum was saying. "I shall leave you in charge of this dormitory, Professor. And I warn you that there are a number of unruly spirits here. In particular look out for those two Racer lads."

"Hum!" murmured Frank, as he slid into his room. "We may give you plenty of excuse for saying that, Thorny, before we get through with you." The next words of the crabbed instructor came to Frank as a shock.

"I have to go to Dailsburg on some money matters," went on Mr. Callum. "I am trying to collect an outstanding debt, and I fear I shall have to take strenuous measures."

"By Jove! He's going to annoy Gertrude and her mother again!" whispered Frank to his brother. "I'm going to stop that business!"

"How are you going to do it? You can't go out and have a row with Callum, now."

"I know it, but I can go to Dailsburg myself and tell Mrs. Morton that dad will take charge of her financial affairs. Dad will make Thorny know what's what, and teach him to let a poor widow and her daughter alone. I'm going to Dailsburg."

"Good for you!" exclaimed Andy. "I'm with you. We'll run the guard right after supper."

But Andy and Frank were not to get away as soon as they hoped to. They hurried to their room after the evening meal, dispensed with study that evening and made preparations for getting quietly out of school. This was against the rules, but they knew Mr. Callum was not on guard.

"Professor Dickson will be easy," was Frank's opinion. "He'll probably keep to his room all evening working on some mathematical problem. We can get out and back again before he knows it. Come on, Andy."

There sounded a cautious knock on their door—the knock of Jack or Ward, given in the usual signal code. Frank swung the portal.

"Hurray! Good news!" cried Jack, for it was he and his chum who stood in the hall.

"What's up?" demanded Andy.

"The millionaire has come," whispered Ward as he slipped in after Jack. "Mr. Pierson Lairman, who is an old grad of Riverview, reached here to-night. He's the one I was telling you about who is going to invest a lot of money in the school. It means the solution of Dr. Doolittle's financial troubles and it means that the old school will take on new life."

"Yes, and it means that we can have a crew, a nine, and a football eleven!" added Jack. "We just heard the news and came to tell you. Mr. Lairman is in Dr. Doolittle's study now. He brought a black bag with him. I wouldn't wonder but what it was stuffed with greenbacks. Wow! Isn't it great! Now we don't have to worry about getting a shell. Let's talk about the new crew! I'll row now!"

---

AN ANGRY PROFESSOR

There was so much whirlwind enthusiasm in the dual announcement by Jack and Ward that, for a moment, Frank and Andy could not get a word in. They motioned their companions to seats and then asked for particulars.

"Are you sure he's here?" demanded Frank.

"Yes, it's been rumored for some time that he was to come, and he's here all right," said Ward.

"Besides I heard Dr. Doolittle call him by his name," added Jack. "And if you could see how happy the poor worried doctor looked it would have been proof enough."

"I hope it is true, and that he does invest about a million in Riverview," spoke Andy. "She needs it," and he gazed out over the neglected athletic fields and toward the ruined boathouse.

"How did it all come about?" Frank wanted to know.

"Well, this millionaire—Mr. Lairman—used to attend school here years ago," explained Jack, who seemed to have all the traditions of Riverview at his tongue's end. "It was a different sort of a place then, and lots of rich men's sons came here. After years had passed, as they say in the novels, Mr. Lairman graduated, went away and amassed a fortune. Notice that word 'amassed.'"

"Some class to you," murmured Frank.

"Go on," urged Andy.

"More years passed," resumed Jack, "and Riverview fell upon dark days. Recently Dr. Doolittle, seeking help, chanced to think of Mr. Lairman. He wrote to him and asked him to take a half interest in the school, which, the doctor said, ought to be made to pay well if rightly managed. Mr. Lairman said he'd come on and investigate. He's here—what's the answer?"

"If he only does invest," murmured Ward, "it will be the best thing that could happen. I say, let's talk all about it."

"Not now," said Frank quickly.

"Why not?"

"Andy and I have to go out. Don't say anything about it, but we're going to cut. Thorny is away and it's safe."

"Got a date?" asked Jack.

"Sort of," admitted the elder Racer lad. "Don't think we're putting you out, but we've got to tog up."

"Girls! I knew it!" cried Ward. "Come on, Jack. Let's go where we're appreciated."

"Don't think we're not glad about the news," went on Frank, "but this is something important and it won't keep."

"That's all right," spoke Jack good-naturedly. "We know how it is. Get on your pink neckties and scoot. We'll see you again."

Frank and Andy began to make a hasty change in their attire as soon as the door closed.

"I hope we're not too late," murmured Frank. "I want to get there before Old Thorny does."

"Did you get an invite?" asked Andy, struggling with a new necktie in a stiff collar. "Does she know you are coming?"

"No, but the last time I saw Gertrude she invited me to call, though she didn't set any time. It's time now, though, so it will be all right. I want to get ahead of him, and I'll tell Mrs. Morton that she needn't worry about those bonds, for dad will make them all right."

"How do you know he will?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure. Anyhow, if he doesn't, I've got some money of my own. I didn't spend all we got from the whale."

"Me either. Say, but you're getting in deep, though. But I'm with you, and if you need any cash—just call on me. I'd do a good bit to get ahead of Old Thorny. But what do you think of the news Jack and Ward brought?"

"About the millionaire? I only hope it's true. It's about time something was done for Riverview. Well, I'm ready. Come on."

"Do I look all right?" Andy asked anxiously.

"Sure, but what do you care?"

"Oh, I thought you said that——"

"Oh ho! I see! Well, maybe Grace will be there. Come on."

It was but a short ride to Dailsburg on the trolley from Riverview, and on the way Frank and Andy kept a sharp watch for Professor Callum. But he was either ahead of or behind them. The latter, Frank hoped.

Frank's ring at the bell of the Morton home was answered by Gertrude in person. Her face, which bore a worried expression, lighted up at the sight of him.

"Oh, I'm very glad to see you!" she exclaimed. "Come in."

"Andy is here too," said Frank, with a little laugh.

"That's nice. Grace Knox is calling on me. You met her, I believe."

"Yes, but, Miss Gertrude, is your mother in? I called partly on business."

"She is in, but she has a caller now. Professor Callum is in the parlor." The boys could hear the rumbling of his crabbed voice.

"Then I'm too late!" said Frank quickly.

"Too late? What do you mean?" asked Gertrude.

"I heard him talking to one of the other teachers to-day," said Frank, "and I guessed that he was coming here. I want to tell your mother that I'm going to have my father take up the matter of the bonds or stocks at once. I know he can get her some money for them so she won't have to worry any more about not being able to pay Old Thorn—I mean Mr. Callum. I hurried here hoping to get ahead of him, so she wouldn't be insulted by him. She could tell him that arrangements were being made to sell the bonds."

"But are you sure of this?" asked Gertrude, a look of hope coming into her face. "We have been so often disappointed, though we are sure the bonds are perfectly good. I would not want to raise false hopes."

"I am sure the bonds are good!" agreed Frank, "and I am sure we can get money for them. Andy and I know something about finance."

"That's right," said the younger brother with a wise nod of his head.

"Oh, I'm so glad!" exclaimed the girl. "I'll tell mamma at once. I wish you had gotten here before he did," and she nodded in the direction of the parlor, "as I know mamma is very much distressed about the matter, and this interview is sure to give her a headache. Mr. Callum, in his usual rough way, made a demand for the money at once. He even threatened to sell our little home if we didn't pay. I'm going to see if I can get a chance to tell mamma. Come in, I'll take you to Grace, and she can entertain you until I come back."

Andy blushed when presented to the pretty companion of their young hostess, but he soon recovered his usual spirits and gave a laughable account of a joke he had played at school that day. The young people were getting on well together when Gertrude entered the dining-room, followed by her mother.

"Oh, do you think there is really a chance?" asked Mrs. Morton, when Frank and Andy had been introduced, and the elder lad had explained his project.

"I am pretty sure," he answered. "If you will let me see the bonds I will write my father about them."

The securities which Mrs. Morton brought out, explaining that she had excused herself from the professor for a time, proved to be in a well-known industrial concern that, while it manufactured a good product, yet had been in hard luck of late.

"I believe those will prove valuable sooner or later," said Frank. "I'll write to father at once. Meanwhile you might tell Professor Callum that he will soon get his money."

"Oh, I am so glad!" she exclaimed gratefully. "I cannot thank you enough." She hurried back into the room, whence soon came the protesting voice of the crabbed instructor. Mrs. Morton could be heard reassuring him. The young people were gaily talking.

Suddenly the door of the parlor opened and the professor came out, followed by Gertrude's mother.

"It is of no use!" the man exclaimed. "I will take no more promises. I came here to-night determined to get the money, and I will have it. Unless it is paid shortly I shall take means to levy on this property and have it sold at auction to satisfy my claim. You said you have been told that the bonds are good. But why don't you tell me who says this? Why are you so secretive about it?"

Frank had thought it best not to have Mrs. Morton mention his father's name in the matter as yet.

"Why don't you tell me who says the bonds are good?" demanded Mr. Callum.

"I am not allowed to—just yet."

"Humph! I thought so. It's all bosh. I——"

Just then the angry professor caught sight of Frank and Andy. The expression of his face, when he saw two of his students whom he supposed safe in their dormitories, now several miles away, can well be imagined. His jaw dropped and his eyes opened wide.

"What! You—you here?" he gasped. "How dare you?"

"I don't see why we dare not call on our friends," said Frank coolly.

"You dare to leave the school grounds after hours!" stormed the professor. "You shall be severely punished for this! I have been suspecting you Racer boys for some time, and now I have caught you. You shall suffer for this. Where's my hat? I am going back to Riverview at once to report you!"

He strode out of the room, while Frank and Andy gazed blankly at each other.

---

BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT

The door slammed behind Professor Callum. It seemed to break the spell of silence that hung over all.

"Oh, what a mean man!" exclaimed Grace Knox.

"Isn't it a shame!" echoed Gertrude.

"I'm so sorry on account of you boys," spoke Mrs. Morton. "It was fine of you to come to offer help, but you never thought of being caught, I dare say."

"Oh, yes we did," spoke Frank. "We always take that chance when we run the guard. But it doesn't matter."

"What will he do to you?" Mrs. Morton wanted to know.

"Oh, make us do a lot of lines in Latin prose," answered Andy.

"Then you won't be expelled?" asked Grace.

"No danger of that," laughed Frank. "They need all the students they can get at Riverview. But I wouldn't like dad and mother to hear that we were reported, especially when it isn't for anything very wrong."

"If you could only get back to the school before he does, you might be in your rooms, and he would hardly know whether he saw you here or not," said Miss Gertrude with a mischievous smile.

"But they can't," said her mother. "Mr. Callum will catch the next trolley, and there isn't another for an hour."

There was an apprehensive silence. Then Grace Knox cried:

"I have it! The very thing! If you got in ahead of him, could you get to your rooms quietly?" she asked.

"I guess we could manage it," declared Frank with a look at his brother.

"Then here is my plan. You can't hope to get in ahead of him on the trolley, but you can in an auto."

"Where can we get an auto?" asked Frank eagerly.

"My brother has one. It's speedy, and in good running order. I'll telephone and have him bring it over here and he can run you to Riverview in a few minutes. Then——"

"Leave the rest to us," said Andy with a chuckle.

The home of Miss Knox was not far from the Morton house, and Grace's brother Will was soon on hand with the car. He laughed when the need of haste was explained to him, for there had been no time in summoning him by telephone to tell why he was wanted.

"It'll be a good joke," he said. "I wish I was at school again."

"We're a thousand times obliged to you," said Frank, as they started off after saying good-bye to the girls, and after Frank had renewed his promise about the bonds.

It was a quick run to the school, and the boys asked Will Knox to stop the car a short distance from their dormitory so that no one would hear the noise of the engine.

"Think you can get in?" he asked, as he prepared to turn back.

"Sure," whispered Frank, as he and his brother moved forward in the darkness. It was comparatively an easy matter to effect an entrance to the dormitory. Like many other things about the school, the door locks were broken, so the lads had no difficulty in swinging back a side portal. Then, removing their shoes, they went softly to their rooms.

"Thorny isn't back yet or we'd hear a commotion," was Frank's opinion, with which Andy agreed.

They lost no time in undressing and getting into bed. Then they waited the arrival of the crabbed teacher, which they felt could not be long delayed.

They were just beginning to get drowsy, in spite of the excitement of the evening, when they heard voices and steps in the corridor of the lower story.

"There he is!" exclaimed Andy.

"Sure. Keep quiet," advised Frank.

"I tell you they are out!" they heard Mr. Callum saying. "I saw them over in Dailsburg not an hour ago. It is impossible for them to have returned. I caught the first car back."

"But I hardly understand how they could have been out," answered a voice which the boys recognized as that of Professor Dickson. "I have heard no one enter or leave the building since the hour struck."

"Humph! You don't know those boys," said the crabbed instructor sneeringly. "We will go to their room, and find it vacant."

"Wait and see," murmured Frank.

The footsteps approached their apartment. The boys could hardly keep from laughing, but somehow they managed it. So confident was Mr. Callum of finding our heroes out that he did not knock, but entered at once. Frank had been careful to leave the door unlocked.

"Now we shall see!" exclaimed Mr. Callum in triumph, as he lighted the gas. "I will go at once and report to Dr. Doolittle that——"

He stopped in confusion, for looking at him from their respective pillows were the boys he had thought in Dailsburg.

"What—how come you—what are you doing here?" stammered the surprised professor.

"Why, this is our room," spoke Frank innocently. "We always sleep here, Mr. Callum. Did you want us?"

"Want you? You—you—What were you doing in Dailsburg this evening?" he almost shouted.

"Were we in Dailsburg to-night?" asked Frank innocently of his brother.

"Hum!" mused the younger lad, as if trying to remember. "Perhaps we may have been."

"Enough of this nonsense!" exclaimed the professor. "I know that you were, and you shall be punished for it. Professor Dickson, remain here on guard, and I will go summon Dr. Doolittle."

"Oh, will it not keep until morning?" the mathematical instructor wanted to know.

"Not with such boys as we have to deal with," was the snarling answer. "I want them punished." Probably it was as much because of their interference in the professor's money matters, as because of their breach of the rules that the lads were to suffer.

"And you say you met them in Dailsburg, and yet found them in bed when you arrived?" our heroes presently heard the voice of Dr. Doolittle asking, as he accompanied Mr. Callum along the hall.

"That is correct, sir."

"Might you not possibly be mistaken?"

"In regard to what?"

"Why, Professor Callum, you might not have seen the Racer boys in Dailsburg."

"Humph! I am sure I did. You might as well say they are not in their beds at this moment."

The venerable head of the school entered the apartment of Frank and Andy. Mr. Callum with a look of triumph on his face followed.

"Has the physician seen them?" asked Dr. Doolittle vaguely, reaching for Andy's pulse. "Are you in much pain now, my boy?"

"Pain?" gasped Andy.

"Oh, I beg your pardon. It is my absent-mindedness I'm afraid," explained the master. "I thought I had been called to see you because you were ill. I remember now. It was because—really, Professor Callum, I'm afraid I shall have to ask you to tell me why you summoned me. I have forgotten."

"It was because these boys were out after hours without permission!" exclaimed the irate instructor.

"Is this true, boys?" asked the doctor a bit sternly. He never doubted the word of a student.

"Yes, it's true," said Frank. "We had very important business in Dailsburg, and——"

"Well, as long as you found them in when you returned, and as long as Professor Dickson, who, I understand, had your place as in charge of the dormitories, did not see any breach of the rules, I think we will overlook it this time," said the doctor kindly. "I have another matter, about which——"

"But I can't understand how they got here!" exclaimed Mr. Callum.

"Perhaps it was all an optical illusion," suggested Professor Dickson.

"Sir! Do you wish me to disbelieve the evidence of my own eyesight?" demanded Mr. Callum pompously.

"No, of course not," answered the doctor, rubbing his thin white hands vigorously. "But we will regard the case as settled. Go to sleep, boys. It is late. And, professors, perhaps a happier day is dawning for old Riverview. My friend, Mr. Lairman, the millionaire, is going all over the grounds with me to-morrow and he will then give his decision about investing in a half interest. I am sure he will, and then we will see great improvements here. Come to my room and we will discuss them."

"But——" protested Mr. Callum.

"Oh, let the boys alone," urged Professor Dickson. "I think they played a right smart trick, and I'd like to know how it was done."

"I'll find out!" exclaimed Mr. Callum vindictively. "I will not let this rest here."

Their voices trailed off in an indistinct murmur, and Frank and Andy, chuckling over the success of their plan, fell asleep.

All over the school the next morning it was rumored that the millionaire was "sizing things up." The boys saw him being escorted over the unkempt campus, out on the neglected diamond and gridiron, about through the buildings sadly in need of repair, and toward the ruined boathouse.

"Say, I hope he sets aside a fund for a shell the first thing he does!" exclaimed Frank.

"Yes, and he ought to endow a football team. We'd be right in it then!" declared Austin Vedder.

"And have the diamond put in shape ready for next season," added Sam Shull.

"Oh, it's great to be a millionaire!" declared Jack.

It is doubtful if many lessons were well recited that day, as so much interest was taken in the visit of the rich man. He was escorted about by Dr. Doolittle, who seemed to think that the troubles of Riverview were about over. The visitor was entertained by the doctor that evening, leaving at a late hour.

But there was a rude awakening the next day. Professor Callum presided at chapel in place of the venerable doctor.

"I regret to say," spoke the unpopular teacher, "that Dr. Doolittle is not well this morning. He has had a great disappointment. I presume some of you have heard of the prospects for an endowment of this school. Those hopes are at an end. The gentleman concluded not to invest."

That was all that was said, but it was enough.

"Good-bye to our diamond," murmured one lad.

"No football this year," added another.

"I guess we'll have no crew," came from Frank.

"Silence!" exclaimed Professor Callum. "You will go to your classes."

And the boys, with lagging feet and with sorrowful faces, went. Their hopes had been raised only to be dashed to the ground. Old Riverview Hall looked more seedy and gone to ruin than before.

---

THE OLD SHELL

"Say, isn't it tough luck?"

"It sure is."

"And just after we thought things were going so nicely."

"Old Thorny seems glad of it."

"That's because he doesn't take any interest in sport."

"But Dr. Doolittle is pretty well broken up."

"Sure thing. It's hard for him."

The above conversation was going on among a group of Riverview Hall students several days after the events narrated in the last chapter. In fact following the disappointing visit of the millionaire little else had been talked about. Our two heroes and their chums were in the group.

"I heard," remarked Jack Sanderson, "that the reason Mr. Lairman backed down was because the school was so slow."

"Slow? How do you mean?" asked Frank Racer.

"I mean in regard to athletics. He wasn't so much impressed by the buildings being out of condition and all that, but I hear that when he saw the diamond all overgrown with weeds, and the gridiron all but invisible, and the boathouse a wreck, he threw up the sponge."

"I don't blame him," remarked Andy. "It's partly our fault. We fellows ought to do something."

"But what can we do?" asked Ward Platt. "We can't start a football eleven without some money, and I know I can't put up much cash."

"We don't need much," insisted Andy. "We ought to be able to get up some sort of a crew or eleven and challenge Waterside Hall or Milton Academy."

"What! Challenge those fellows?" cried several.

"Yes, why not?" Frank wanted to know, with an air of quiet determination.

"They'd only laugh at us," was Jack's opinion.

"Let 'em laugh then," said Andy. "We can stand it if they can. Say, you fellows may be used to this sort of thing," and he waved his hand around the diamond, over which they were walking, "but my brother and I are not. We're used to doing things; eh, Frank?"

"That's what. And we'll do 'em now. If there was only some way we could get up a contest. Isn't there an old football around here?"

"I have one," said Ward, "but it's a little warm to even practice to-day. It's better suited to rowing."

"Can't row when you haven't a shell," said Frank. "Get the ball, and we'll have a little fun anyhow."

Soon afterward twenty-two lads, who had donned old clothes, for there was not a football suit in the whole school, were kicking an old ball about, falling on it, running with it, and doing their best to play a regulation game. It was hard, as few save Frank, Andy and their two chums knew the rules, but they soon warmed up and were very much in earnest.

"Bless my soul!" exclaimed Dr. Doolittle a short time after this, as he was crossing the campus with Professor Callum. "What are the boys doing?"

"Playing football it seems," answered the crabbed instructor with a sarcastic laugh. "They might better be at their studies."

"Oh, boys must play," said the good doctor with a sigh. "But I did not know they had an eleven. It is almost—like old times."

"It isn't a regular team," explained the professor. "I fancy it is some of the doings of those Racer boys."

"The more credit to them. They are manly chaps. I am sorry they were ill the other night."

"Ill!" exclaimed Mr. Callum. "They were——"

"Oh, yes, I remember now. You told me they were out after hours without permission. I can't understand it—can't understand it," and the doctor walked on, slowly nodding his head and thinking of many things, chief among which was where he could raise the money to pay many pending bills.

"That's the best fun we've had in a long time!" panted Jack, when the impromptu game was over.

"Yes, let's have it again to-morrow," added a well-built lad who had been playing center.

"I'm glad you Racer boys came here. You're waking us up," was a third comment.

"Wait; we haven't begun yet," said Frank with a laugh. "Have we, Andy?"

"That's right. I have a whole barrel of jokes yet that I haven't unpacked. Wait a bit."

"Better go slow on the jokes," warned his brother when they were alone. "Old Thorny is just waiting for another chance at us, and when it comes, as it's almost sure to, we won't get off so easy."

"Oh, don't borrow trouble," advised Andy with a laugh.

"I wish we could borrow a shell, or some kind of a boat to race in," went on Frank. "Come on down to the river. Bill Spalter isn't using his boat, and we'll have a little row. We will have time just before supper."

"I'm with you. Go ahead."

They went down the river about a mile and rowed back at such speed as "the tub" was limited to.

"It's a pity there aren't any more boats around here," Frank remarked to Bill, as they tied up his craft. "What became of the racing shells they used to have when this school was in its prime?"

"Racing shells!" exclaimed Bill with a laugh. "They don't last many seasons. But I think there's an old one around here somewhere."

"There is?" cried Frank eagerly.

"Where is it?" demanded Andy.

"Well, the last I seen of it she was over in the old barn, up overhead on some beams. I don't believe it's any good, though. It's a four-oared one, and was quite fast in its day."

"Let's go have a look at it," suggested Frank.

"Come on, Andy. We've got time."

"It's too dark," objected his brother.

"Here's a lantern," suggested Bill. "I'd be glad to see some life about this place. Maybe they'd raise my wages then. The shell is in the big barn, not the little one."

Very eager over the unexpected news they had heard, Frank and Andy hurried on, swinging the lighted lantern.

"What's up?" a voice hailed them.

"They're two Diogenes chaps looking for a dishonest man," said another.

"There's Jack and Ward," said Andy. "Shall we tell 'em?"

"Sure." Thereupon the two chums were let into the secret.

"I'm afraid a shell that's been in the barn several years isn't much good," was Jack's opinion.

"Maybe we can fix it up," said Ward, more hopefully.

The boys found the shell covered with dust, hayseed and odds and ends of refuse. Eagerly they flashed the light of the lantern upon its slender outlines.

"It was a beaut in it's day," was Frank's opinion.

"Yes, and I think we can patch it up and use it," declared Andy, who knew almost as much about boats as did his brother. "We'll have a shell yet."

"Do you really think you can?" inquired Jack, eagerly.

"It's worth trying," said Frank, after another critical inspection. "I wish we had it on the ground and it was daylight, I think——"

"Cheese it!" Andy interrupted him. "Someone is coming along the path."

"It's old Thorny," said Ward, after a look out of an upper window.

"By Jove! Just my luck!" exclaimed Andy in a whisper.

"What's the matter?" Ward inquired.

"I've just thought of a dandy trick to play on him. Will you fellows help?"

"Another trick!" half groaned Frank, who knew his brother's failing.

"Are you game?" demanded Andy of the two new chums.

"Sure," said Jack.

"Lead on," came from Ward.

"Then draw hither and list, my brave comrades," whispered the younger Racer lad as they gathered about the lantern.

---

THE DISCOVERY

"What are you going to do?" demanded Frank. "Nothing that we can get caught at, I hope."

"Nixy," replied Andy. "You see, he's coming this way, and he's all togged up—even to his tall hat."

"Maybe he's going calling," suggested Jack.

"He won't, after we get through with him," went on the younger brother. "I saw a basket full of chaff and bran over there in the corner. Now what I'm going to do is to put it on the edge of this low door through which they used to take in the hay. Just when Old Thorny gets under it that basket will fall, and——"

"You mean it will be pushed—it won't fall," suggested Ward.

"Well, what's the difference?" asked Andy, "as long as the chaff goes all over Thorny?"

"I suppose we'll have to do it," spoke Frank with a sigh. "But we haven't much time. He's nearly here."

"Time enough," came from Andy. "He's walking slowly. I guess he's thinking up some new kind of torture to inflict on us. This bran and chaff won't hurt him, but it will be mighty inconvenient, sifting down inside his clothes."

It did not take the lads in the old barn loft very long to bring the basket of chaff from the obscure corner where Andy's sharp eyes had seen it. It was poised on the edge of the open doorway beneath which the unpopular professor would soon pass. It was now quite dark in the loft, the lantern not giving much illumination, but this exactly suited the boys, as they did not want to be detected.

"All ready," said Andy, when the basket had been put in place. "Where is he?"

"Look out and see," advised Frank. "It's your joke."

"No, you look," urged Andy. "I'm going to do most of the work, anyhow. I'm going to push the basket."

"I'll take a peep," volunteered Jack. "He can't see us, I guess."

He peered out of the low hay door, and a moment later drew in his head quickly.

"He's standing still," the spy reported, "and he seems to be studying the stars."

"Gee! I hope he doesn't turn back," exclaimed Andy. "Look out, Ward. You'll have me in the basket in a moment." Ward had changed his position, and had jostled up against Andy.

"There I go!" exclaimed the younger lad a moment later as he lost his balance and fell forward. His hands went into the basket of chaff up to his elbows and there was a struggle before he recovered himself.

"Cheese it, you fellows, or he'll hear you!" hoarsely whispered Frank. "Here he comes!" he added a moment later after a quick observation. "Get ready to tip it, Andy!"

The younger lad, who was vigorously brushing the chaff and bran from his clothes, moved a little nearer the door. Then, by leaning out; he had a glimpse of Mr. Callum. The instructor was just then immediately beneath the opening. The new moon, for it was now quite dark, glistened on his shiny silk hat and Andy could see that Mr. Callum had on his best clothes.

An instant later the basket of dry and dusty chaff and bran went toppling out, and fell like a miniature snow storm all about the teacher. In a moment he was covered from head to foot with the stuff, while the basket itself, turning upside down, was inverted over his head, silk hat and all.

"Oh wow!" exclaimed Andy in a whisper. "It worked like a charm. Listen to him!"

From below came a confusion of sounds.

"Help! Thieves! I'm attacked! Help! What has happened? The barn has toppled over!"

"His hat is smashed!" exulted Andy.

"Come on!" suddenly exclaimed Frank. "We've got to get out of here or he'll be up."

Indeed it was high time, for Professor Callum, after the first shock, was beginning to reason out certain things. Baskets of chaff did not fall from the hay windows of deserted barns without some human agency, he reflected.

"Who did that? Who is up there?" he demanded, gazing upward as well as his eyes, smarting from the chaff, would let him. "I insist on knowing."

"It's us for the tall timber," said Andy in a whisper. "Douse the glim and go down the rear ladder."

In an instant the loft was in darkness and the boys were cautiously stealing down. Fortunately there were two ways of descending, which fact the wily Andy had taken note of before perpetrating his joke. Otherwise the plotters would have been caught, for when they were half way down the rear ladder, they heard the irate professor mounting by the front stairs. He was muttering indignantly:

"This is an outrage! I know it was some of those rascally students! If I can only catch them I'll have them expelled! It's outrageous!"

"Hurry up!" whispered Jack, who was in the rear of the retreating procession.

"Keep quiet!" whispered back Andy. "He's got sharp ears."

"Who is there?" suddenly demanded the professor. He had evidently heard the voices, cautious though they were.

The boys at once stood still. Not a sound was audible in the old barn for perhaps half a minute. Then the instructor advanced and under cover of the noise he made the lads completed their retreat. They were soon speeding back to the school in the darkness and a little later they were at supper where they talked of many things, including the discovery of the old shell.

"Oh, you fellows can never get that in shape," said Burnam Foster, one of the seniors. "They had that on the water before I came here, and that's four years ago. It will leak like a sieve."

"We can calk it," declared Frank, and the enthusiastic talk went on. Opinion was divided. Some thought that it was possible to get the shell in shape, but the great majority declared that it was useless to try.

"Nothing ever happens for any good at Riverview," declared one lad. "The school has the dry rot."

"It did have," remarked Jack Sanderson significantly, "but we've found some sound wood that we're grafting on," and he motioned to Frank and Andy, who, at that moment, were telling one of their chums about the joke on Mr. Callum.

"And where did you leave him?" Frank was asked.

"Up in the barn, hunting for us. Has any one seen him since?"

"I just saw him going to his room," answered the lad who was late to supper. "He looked as if he'd been run over by an automobile on a dusty road."

"That's him all right," asserted Andy. "But come on, Frank, I want to get off these old togs," for the lads were still in the clothes they had used at the football game.

The two brothers were walking along the corridor leading to their rooms when they were surprised to see some one coming from their apartment.

"Who's that?" whispered Andy. There was no need for his brother to answer, for a moment later they saw that it was Mr. Callum. He was a sorry-looking object, though he had succeeded in getting rid of most of the chaff. At the sight of our heroes he stopped short and stared at them.

"I'm going to laugh!" exclaimed Andy in a whisper.

"Don't you dare!" cautioned Frank. "Sneeze. Sneeze, I tell you!"

Andy pulled out his handkerchief with a flourish and applied it to his face preparatory to uttering a loud "A-ker-choo!" But there was no need to imitate a sneeze, for instantly the air was filled with a white cloud of dust which, getting up the noses of the two boys, as well as that of the professor, caused a chorus of exclamations.

And then, on the floor at Andy's feet appeared a neat little pile of chaff and bran. It had sifted out of his pocket on the removal of the handkerchief, having gotten in when he fell into the basket.

For a moment Mr. Callum stared at the bit of mute evidence. Then he glanced at his damaged hat and his whitened clothes. He darted a look full of anger at the Racer boys and said:

"Come with me to Dr. Doolittle! Come at once!"

There was no choice but to obey, and Frank and Andy followed down the corridor.

---

OUT IN THE SHELL

"Guess we're caught all right," whispered Frank to his brother. "Why didn't you take that stuff out of your pocket?"

"I didn't know it was in there. I don't care. We had to have some fun; didn't we?"

"There's your idea of it, Andy. You're always doing something. I wish I hadn't consented to it. But we're in for it now."

"Well, we won't squeal on the other fellows. We'll take our medicine alone," said Andy grimly.

"Of course," replied the older lad.

By this time they were at the study of Dr. Doolittle. A soft light was burning in the room, but the head of the school was not there. His place was taken by his secretary.

"I would like to see Dr. Doolittle on very important business—very important," said Mr. Callum pompously. "It is an outrageous piece of vandalism that I have to report."

"I am very sorry," said Mr. Paterson, the secretary, quietly, "but Dr. Doolittle does not wish to be disturbed. He is not feeling well."

"I demand to see him! I want these two boys expelled at once," said the instructor. "They have insulted me, damaged my clothing and spoiled a new hat. I want them expelled."

"Dr. Doolittle does not want to be disturbed," repeated Mr. Paterson. "The recent disappointment about not getting more capital for the school has told heavily on him, Professor Callum."

"I know, but that does not affect this case. He must take some notice of it, and act at once on my complaint. These boys can not remain in the school another day. Either they leave or I do!" and he shook an accusing finger at the brothers.

"I will take a note of what you wish to say," went on the secretary, who, in spite of his youth, did not seem to fear the irate professor. "I will give it to Dr. Doolittle in the morning."

"I want to see him now."

"He is not to be disturbed," was the quiet answer. "Will you give me the facts?"

It was only after much grumbling that Mr. Callum reduced his complaint to writing. He told of the upsetting of the basket of chaff on his head, and how he had discovered the tell-tale evidence in Andy's pocket. He ended by making another demand for their dismissal. Evidently he did not suspect any other lads of having had a hand in the joke.

"Very well," said the secretary, "I will give this to Dr. Doolittle in the morning. Have you boys anything to say?"

"I—we—that is I—" began Andy stumblingly.

"We have nothing to say now," interrupted Frank quickly, while the professor glared at them.

"Then Dr. Doolittle will send for you when he wants you. That is all now."

Still muttering threats against our heroes the professor withdrew, and the lads slowly followed.

"What was your idea in not saying anything?" asked Andy of his brother as they once more went toward their rooms.

"Why, don't you see? Poor Doc is off his feed. He's all knocked out on account of this disappointment, and he doesn't care whether school keeps or not. He won't pay any attention to Old Thorny's complaint and we'll get out of it. Not that I'm anxious on that account, for I don't believe he'd punish us much. But there's no use running your head into danger that you can keep out of. You'll see, that complaint will go under a mass of papers on the doctor's desk, and I doubt if he'll ever see it. The secretary's talk about him not feeling well gave me the tip."

"Good for you! But old Thorny won't let it drop."

"I don't suppose he will. But what can he do if the Doc won't pay any attention to him? Take it from me Doc doesn't like Callum any more than we do and he knows we fellows are down on him. If Doc wants his school to be popular he'd better drop old Thorny."

"But even if Dr. Doolittle doesn't take any notice of the complaint and punish us, old Thorny will have it in for us in class."

"He has anyhow, so it won't be anything new. All we've got to do is not to give him any more chances at us than possible. I wish this hadn't happened, but since it has we'll make the best of it."

"It was you fellows' fault for shoving me into the basket of chaff," declared Andy with an injured tone. "Otherwise none of it would have gotten into my pocket and he wouldn't have suspected."

"Oh, well, what's the use of kicking? That's the way with most of your jokes—there's a slip-up somewhere."

"Oh, you get out! If you played as many jokes as I do some of yours would slip up once in a while, you old skate!"

Andy aimed a playful punch at his brother which the latter dodged, and at once there was a friendly scuffle in the hall outside of their room.

"Here! Here! That will do! You boys are a disgrace to the school!" exclaimed a rasping voice and the sour face of Professor Callum glared at them. "Stop it at once, or I shall report you again."

"Say, isn't he the limit!" exclaimed Andy, as they went inside. "I'd like to do something else to him."

"Oh, for cats' sake—quit," begged his brother. "I'm going to study."

Then quiet reigned in the little room and the boys were more or less industrious over their books.

As Frank had predicted, Dr. Doolittle said nothing to them about the complaint. In fact he did not appear at chapel the next morning, and though Mr. Callum, who presided, glared at our heroes, and acted very much as if he would have liked to censure them before the whole school, it was an authority he dared not yet assume. But he took it out of them in class, however, where he called on them more frequently in Latin than on any of the other pupils. Fortunately Andy and Frank were well prepared in anticipation of this and did not fail.

"Humph! You are improving, considering the disgraceful manner in which you behave," said the teacher grimly, as he dismissed the class.

"That's all right. You didn't manage to keep us in," remarked Andy in a low voice to his brother as he glanced at the teacher.

"And we can get at the shell, and see if we can patch it up," said the elder brother. "Come on, Jack and Ward. Let's have a look at it by daylight."

It was rather a sorry-looking rowing craft that was taken down from the barn loft a little later. It needed many repairs. Some of the outriggers were bent and one was broken. But the boys were enthusiastic, especially Andy and Frank, and they managed to infuse some of their spirit into their companions.

"We can fix it!" declared Frank. "All it needs is a few patches, and to have the outriggers fixed. I wonder where the oars are?"

"There used to be some overhead in the boathouse," said Bill Spalter. "Maybe they're there yet."

"Only two that are any good," reported Jack, after an investigation. "We'll have to raise money for the others. And I'm broke."

"Same here," added Ward ruefully, "though my allowance is due in about three weeks."

"I fancy we have a few cents left," spoke Frank. "We haven't used up all our whale prize money yet," and they explained how they had secured the funds.

The next week was a busy one, for every moment they could spare from their lessons our heroes and their chums were busy working over the old shell. Two new oars had been purchased, Frank and Andy advancing the money, and they also supplied enough to purchase material for repairs.

"Well, we've got a crew at last," remarked Frank one night, when the four boys were gathered in the room of the Racer boys.

"But we don't know what kind it is," said Jack. "We ought to go for a trial spin."

"Yes, the shell is ready for the water now," spoke Andy. "How about a trial to-morrow afternoon, Frank?"

"I can't go then, but I can the next day. I have a date for to-morrow."

"Out at Dailsburg, I'll wager," exclaimed his brother.

"Yes, I've heard from dad about those bonds and he's going to try to sell them. I want to get them and send them on. But the next day will be time enough. I want to let Mrs. Morton know as soon as possible."

They talked of racing and other matters, of the prospect of a match with Waterside, and whether or not a football team could be organized with the raw material available. Then came the striking of the warning hour that marked the close of the time when visits might be paid.

"Time for us to skip, unless we want Thorny after us," said Jack. "Heard anything more about his kick on the chaff?"

"No, though he's been after Doc about it. You see he hasn't really any good evidence against me, and he knows it," said Andy. "Just because I had some chaff in my pocket doesn't say I did it."

"That's right—any more than it proves that I'm a horse because I slept in a stable and caught cold," put in Jack with a laugh. "Well, so-long, fellows," and the callers were gone.

A little additional patching was done to the shell the next day by Andy, Ward and Jack. Frank went off to Dailsburg, promising to come back early. But it was late when he got in, and he just escaped being caught by a monitor.

"What'd you do; stay to grub?" asked Andy, half complaining.

"Yes, they asked me to."

"Did you get the bonds?"

"Yes, and I'm going to mail them to dad. How's the shell?"

"Ready for the race. Are you going to challenge Waterside?"

"Sure, as soon as I see how you and I and Jack and Ward row in it. I don't hear that any of the other fellows want to try, so I guess we'll have to be the crew."

"Sure thing. Say, the football fellows are keeping right on with their practice."

"Glad to hear it. We may be able to get up an eleven after the rowing stops. But it will cost a heap sight more to get the gridiron in shape than it did to fix up the old shell. However, something may turn up. Did anything happen while I was gone?"

"Oh, I had a little run-in with Luke Moss, Welter's crony. He threatened to punch my head."

"I'd like to see him try it," said Frank half-savagely. "Well, I've got to do some studying."

Quite a crowd assembled at the river's edge the next day to see the repaired shell put in the water. Word had gone round that there might eventually be a race with Waterside and the boys were all anxious to see Frank and his chums in the try-out.

"Jove! It doesn't seem possible that old Riverview is really going to be represented in athletics at last," remarked a senior.

"Oh, it will be a hot representation if the Racer boys are in it," sneered Welter, but no one paid much attention to him.

"Look out how you get in her," advised Frank, when he had taken his place in the frail shell. "Don't upset her."

"It's so long since I rowed in one that I've almost forgotten how," returned Jack.

"Oh, well, it will come back to you," declared Andy.

They were soon out in the stream, pulling well together, but slowly. There was a cheer from the little group of schoolboys. Somewhat distant from them stood two youths. They were Gerald Welter and his crony.

"I suppose those Racer lads and the other two think they are the whole cheese," sneered Luke.

"Yes," agreed Welter, "but I'll take the starch out of them soon. There won't be any racing in that shell."

"Why, what are you going to do?" Luke wanted to know.

"You'll find out pretty soon," muttered the bully. "I'm going to get even with that Frank Racer and his brother if it's the last thing I do. You'll see."

Then the two unpopular lads walked off while the other students trailed along the river bank, following the shell.

---

THE CHALLENGE

"Well, we didn't do so badly," remarked Frank, when the oarsmen had returned to the float, and had carefully lifted out the shell.

"Oh, it might have been worse," admitted his brother.

"We didn't make very fast time," declared Jack.

"And we didn't try for it," said Frank quickly. "We want to get so we pull a good stroke together, and then we can hit up the pace."

"I know one thing," said Ward quietly, "and that is that my feet are wet."

"Isn't that leak stopped up yet?" asked Frank in disappointed tones. "We'll have to put some more daub on it. Let's do it right away before we forget it." They set to work over the patched-up shell, surrounded by a curious and admiring group of their companions.

"When are you going to challenge Waterside?" asked one lad.

"Oh, it's time enough to think of that," said Frank with a laugh.

"And then I suppose you'll tackle Milton Academy," suggested another. "They have a good crew in their four-oared shell."

"Say, we've got to creep before we can row the other schools," replied the elder Racer lad. "But if it's at all possible we'll challenge both crews. There's no reason why Riverview shouldn't get back in the game the same as she used to be."

"That's the way to talk!" cried several.

"I wish you'd get a football eleven started," spoke Jake Wilson. "Our boys are beginning to wake up."

"Perhaps we'll get at that after the rowing season ends," said Andy. "There's a good gridiron here, but it needs fixing up."

"So do the grandstands and dressing rooms," spoke one lad, waving his hands toward the dilapidated structures. "We can't accommodate a crowd on those seats."

Frank said nothing. The task of rejuvenating such a run-down school as Riverside was appeared almost hopeless. But he was not the sort of a lad to give up so easily.

The small leak was soon stopped. There might be others, and at best the shell was but a makeshift, but it was a start and that counts for a good deal in many things besides racing.

In the room of our heroes that night there was quite a lively session of the "crew" as the four chums had come to be called. Rowing in all its phases was discussed and Jack brought out several books on the subject, written by well-known school and college authorities.

"Are you really in earnest about challenging Waterside?" asked Ward, during a pause in the conversation.

"I surely am," answered Frank. "I don't see why we shouldn't. We can soon get in trim, and, while our shell isn't as good as theirs, it's the rowing that counts, not the boat so much."

"I doubt if they'll race us," said Ward.

"Why not?" Andy wanted to know.

"Oh, they'll say we're not in their class."

"And that means they're afraid!" exclaimed Frank. "I think they'll race us all right. Why, for the last few years it's been like a close corporation—only Waterside and Milton in it. They ought to be glad of a change."

There came a knock on the door, and the boys jumped, from habit, as much as from anything else.

"Who's there?" asked Frank quickly.

"Monitor Jones," was the answer. "The warning bell has rung some time ago and I thought I'd let you know that Professor Callum is coming this way on his rounds."

"Thanks, Jonesy!" exclaimed Frank. "Much obliged. Scoot fellows!" he said. "No use in getting caught if we can help it. Jonesy is a brick. I'm going to give him a suit I've no use for. I saw him shivering out on the field to-day."

Jones was a lad who was "working his way" through the school by doing some of the necessary monitor work. He was a tall, ungainly lad, who made few friends, but he had taken a liking to the Racer boys, and several times he had warned them of impending visits of the professors. The "crew" quickly dispersed and when Professor Callum, hoping to catch the lads whom he associated with his discomfiture, tiptoed to their room, they were in bed.

"Fooled again" chuckled Andy, as the irate instructor passed on to his own apartment.

"And the doctor hasn't said a word about the basket of chaff yet," added Frank. "I guess he won't."

Busy days followed. The "crew" went out to practice, rowing at every opportunity. The shell sprung another leak, but it was fixed, and now the frail craft, on which the hopes of the school depended, was in fairly good shape.

As yet none of the teachers, or Dr. Doolittle, had taken any interest in the prospective race. I say prospective, for no challenge had yet been sent to Waterside. It is doubtful with the many worries he had whether Dr. Doolittle knew anything about the repairing of the shell. Certainly Mr. Callum did not care one way or the other.

Gradually Frank and his chums improved their form, until one afternoon, following a practice spin, one of the seniors said:

"Say, you fellows are all right. I had a chance to time the Waterside four the other day over a two-mile course, and I just clocked you. You had five minutes the better of them."

"No! Really!" exclaimed Frank in delight.

"Sure. Of course I'm not certain that they were rowing their best, but that's the time."

"Well, we haven't hit up the pace to our own limit yet," declared Andy.

"No indeed!" exclaimed Jack.

There was more practice, hard, grueling work, and at the end of another week Frank announced that he was satisfied. By mutual consent he had been made captain.

"I'm going to write a challenge to Waterside to-night," he said.

"Hurray!" cried his chums.

The challenge was couched in rather mild terms as befitted a school that had been out of the running for several years. But a chance to show what they could do was respectfully asked, and it was intimated that an early reply would be appreciated.

"There, now I'll go down to the post-office and drop this in," said Frank, when it had been finished to the satisfaction of all.

As he dropped in the box the missive, which meant so much to Riverview, Frank was aware of two girls hastening up the street toward the post-office. As they came under a gas lamp he recognized them as Gertrude Morton and Grace Knox.

"Oh, Frank—Mr. Racer!" exclaimed Gertrude. "I am so glad I met you!"

"Why, what is the matter?" asked the lad, for he was aware of a note of trouble in her voice.

"Everything!" she exclaimed. "I just came to post a special delivery letter to you. I wanted you to get it the first thing in the morning, and the mail at Dailsburg is so slow. We have just received word from Professor Callum that he has started proceedings to take our home away from us unless his debt is paid at once! Oh, what shall we do?" and Gertrude began crying on the shoulder of her chum.

---

AN INSULTING REPLY

Frank hardly knew what to do. He was not in the habit of seeing girls cry, never having had any sisters, and the sight of a girl in whom he was more than ordinarily interested weeping bitterly was rather too much for him.

"Oh now! Now!" he exclaimed a bit awkwardly. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Gertrude."

"But what can I do?" she asked. "And if I don't do something our home will be taken away from us! Mother is heart-broken, and she couldn't think of anything. I thought of you, and how you had the bonds, and I was wondering if we couldn't sell them quickly, even at a sacrifice, and get some money with which to pay Professor Callum."

"I—I just wish I had him here!" exclaimed Grace Knox. "I—I'd say something to him!" and she stamped her small foot on the pavement.

Frank was thinking quickly. Clearly the emergency called for some action, but what he did not know. Matters seemed to be coming to a crisis.

"Perhaps Old Thorny is forcing things to get even with me, because he knows I am interested in the Mortons," thought Frank. "Well, if he wants to fight this way, making war on women and girls, I'm willing. Let's see, what can I do?"

"I—I hope you don't think it wrong of me to come to mail a letter to you at night," said Gertrude, looking up through her tears. "Mamma wrote it, and sent me to our post-office with it. Then I found I had missed the mail, so I called up Grace and she and I took the next trolley for Riverview."

"It was the right thing to do," declared Frank. "I'm glad you did it. I know what I'll do, I'll wire dad at once. It isn't so late but what I can reach him, and he'll advise us what to do."

"It seems very late," said Grace, for though it was but a little after eight o'clock, people retired earlier in the country town than in the city.

"Oh, New York is just waking up," replied the lad. "My father and mother are probably wondering what they shall do to spend the evening. Come on down this street. The telegraph office is there, and on the way you can give me the particulars."

"There aren't many to give," replied Gertrude as she and her chum followed the Racer lad. "We received notice from James Martin, a lawyer, to-night that a suit to recover a certain sum had been started against us by Mr. Callum. The lawyer said that unless we paid, judgment would be obtained against us, and that he would at once proceed to collect by levying on our house, whatever that means. He said we would be without a home, and winter is coming on. Oh, isn't it terrible!"

"Don't worry," said Frank soothingly. "Even if he was successful in getting a judgment it would take a long while to put you out of your home. But he's not going to do it. Here is the telegraph office. Now to rush a wire to dad."

The agent in the little office was rather surprised to see two pretty girls and a tall lad, all very much excited, enter his place. But he was used to all sorts of queer experiences, so he made no comments and was soon clicking off the message that Frank wrote out. In brief it told what had happened and asked for advice.

"It will probably be half an hour before we can expect an answer," said Frank, "perhaps longer. Suppose we go to a moving picture show? There's a nice respectable one around the corner."

"But won't you be staying away from school too long?" asked Gertrude.

"No, I guess I can make it," replied the lad, though, truth to tell, he was a bit anxious over the outcome. Still he was not going to admit it.

There were several interesting views in the little theatre and the girls and their escort enjoyed them very much. One showed the eight- and four-oared shells of Waterside Hall rowing on the river.

"Oh, aren't they just splendid!" exclaimed Grace.

"Did you hear about our crew?" asked Frank, a bit put out at the interest manifested in a rival school.

"No. Have you one?" asked Gertrude, and when Frank told of sending the challenge, she cried: "Oh, fine! We'll come to see the race; won't we, Grace?"

"I only hope they accept it," murmured Frank, while Gertrude's pretty chum nodded.

Shortly after that they hurried around to the telegraph office, and there found awaiting them a reply from Mr. Racer.

"Oh, perhaps he can't sell the bonds!" exclaimed Gertrude.

"Well, if he can't, I know who can!" said Frank quickly.

"Who?" asked the girl.

"I—er—that is—I can find someone," he answered hesitatingly. He had referred to himself and his brother, but he did not want Gertrude to know that. "Now let's call up this lawyer," he said.

Fortunately Mr. Bolton was at home, and as soon as the name of Mr. Racer was mentioned he at once consented to take charge of the case.

Frank arranged to have him call on Mrs. Morton in the morning, and then sent another telegram to his father advising the silk merchant of what had been done.

"And be sure and sell those bonds, dad," was the way Frank ended up his message. Mr. Racer laughed when he read it.

"I guess our boy is getting quite interested in a certain party," he remarked to his wife.

"Goodness! He's too young!" exclaimed Frank's mother.

"Well, I guess this is all that can be done to-night," remarked Frank, as he came out of the telegraph office with the two girls. "Mr. Bolton will call on your mother to-morrow."

"Then we had better get home and tell her," spoke Gertrude. "Come, Grace."

"Wait. I'm not going to let you go alone!" exclaimed Frank. "We'll get the next car for Dailsburg."

"Oh, we couldn't think of letting you go with us!" objected Gertrude.

"Why not?"

"Because you will get back to school so late, and——"

"We're not a bit afraid," protested Grace.

"But I'm coming just the same," declared Frank calmly. "I'll manage to get back to school somehow. I don't suppose Professor Callum is in Dailsburg; is he?" and he laughed.

"No, I fancy he is done paying us visits," replied Gertrude. "But I wish you wouldn't come."

"Really?" asked the lad.

Gertrude did not answer and as the Dailsburg car came along just then they all got aboard. A quick trip was made, and soon Frank was on his way back to school.

Truth to tell, he was a little nervous about being caught, and, as it was, he nearly suffered that fate. He saw a prowling monitor, but managed to elude him, and got in through a basement door that Flopps, the gardener, sometimes obligingly left open.

But Frank was no sooner in bed, having given a hasty account of his adventures to Andy than there came a summons on the door. It appeared that a number of boys had run the guard that night, and a general "round-up" was in progress. Fortunately our heroes had "a clean slate," to the obvious disappointment of Mr. Callum, who had hoped to catch them.

Frank received a note from Gertrude the next day stating that the court proceedings had been started, but that Mr. Bolton had secured an adjournment.

"So there is no immediate danger," the girl wrote. "My mother and I cannot thank you enough for what you and your father have done for us."

Frank felt a warm glow about the region of his heart, and he carefully put the letter away among some cherished possessions, including an old baseball catching glove.

"Well, how soon do you think Waterside will answer?" asked Jack Sanderson a few days later, when, as yet, no reply had been received to the challenge.

"Oh, it can't be long now," answered Frank, as he helped to lift the shell into the water. "We ought to hear to-day or to-morrow."

Before the crew could row off a messenger from the school came hurrying down to the river bank. In his hand he held a letter.

"This just came!" he panted. "Special delivery. It's for Frank Racer."

"Let's have it!" cried the young captain. "Maybe it's from dad."

Hurriedly he read the few lines. His face went white and then flushed a dull red.

"Well, of all the insults!" he muttered.

"What is it?" chorused his companions.

"Look!" he said. "It's the reply of Waterside to our challenge for a rowing race."

His brother and his chums read this:

"Well, wouldn't that bend your outriggers!" cried Andy, while Frank crumpled up the paper in his hand and ground it under his heel.

---

A SCHOOL BATTLE

"Sure that isn't a fake?"

"Did those fellows really write that?"

"Maybe they're only trying to have some fun with us."

These were some of the expressions, indignant and otherwise, that greeted the reading of the insulting reply to the challenge Frank had sent.

"Oh, there's no doubt but what it's genuine," said the young captain of the crew. "I didn't quite think it of those fellows, though."

"Did you suspect that they might not give us a race?" demanded Jack.

"I was a little afraid of it," answered Frank. "You see, we have been out of it so long that really they don't know just how to place us. In a way I suppose we can't blame them. It's just as if we were a first-class team and some little kids' school should challenge us."

"But we're not a 'kids'' school!" objected Ward. "We're in the same grade with Waterside and Milton Academy."

"Of course, and I thought the Waterside lads would have enough sporting blood to see this. But evidently they don't," and Frank shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess all our work on it won't amount to anything," spoke Andy ruefully.

"Oh, we may get a race with some crew yet," said Frank cheerfully. "Perhaps Milton Academy will take us on."

"They're worse snobs than the lads of Waterside," declared Ward.

Though Frank tried to assume a cheerful air it was evident that he was much hurt. He and his brother and chums had worked hard to evolve a crew out of almost nothing. They had succeeded and now their efforts were scorned.

Incidentally Frank learned that the refusal of the athletic committee of Waterside to consent to a match was not upheld by all the pupils of the influential school. The crew of the freshmen shell in particular were in favor of having the 'varsity four take on the one from Riverview.

"I don't see what harm it would do," said Tom Crawford, the lad whom Frank had saved. "I think some of the boys from Riverview are fine fellows, especially the Racer brothers. Look what they did for me."

"That's right," agreed Walter Sands, a member of the freshmen crew. "If they'd row with our four shell they could have a race."

"I don't suppose anything but the 'varsity would satisfy them," said Tom. "Besides, though we don't agree with the committee, we can't go against them, and have a rupture in our own school. It wouldn't look well, no matter how we felt."

So, as far as Waterside was concerned the matter was dropped and the 'varsity crew went on with its preparations for the final race with Milton Academy—the race that was to decide the championship. But a bitter feeling rankled in the hearts of the lads from Riverview.

Frank and his chums still went out to practice in the days that followed, but it was with little ambition that they sculled up and down the river. Occasionally they had a glimpse of the Waterside 'varsity four or eight, but they kept at a distance.

"No use getting into a scrap," explained the young captain.

Affairs at Riverview were going on much the same for our heroes, their chums and the other pupils. Dr. Doolittle was more absent-minded than ever and seemed laboring under a great strain. The boys felt sorry for him. Professor Callum was still unpleasant, and lost no opportunity of inflicting his wrath on Frank or Andy.

It happened that a noted lecturer, who had traveled in many lands, had returned with a series of moving pictures. He was billed to give an entertainment in Marsden, a large town about midway between Riverview and Waterside.

"I don't see why we couldn't get up a crowd and take that in," said Frank to Andy one afternoon, as he read the posters.

"It ought to be interesting and instructive," said Andy. "Maybe if we bring that last fact to the attention of Dr. Doolittle he might let a lot of us go and stay out after hours. I've a good notion to ask him."

"We will!" exclaimed Frank. "Things have been slow here lately. We'll have to wake 'em up."

The good doctor offered no objections when Frank spoke of the matter and mentioned the fact that it would be in line with some of their studies.

"Go, by all means," said the head of the school, "as many of you as care to."

As might have been expected Professor Callum made strenuous objection to the little excursion.

"Such things should not be allowed!" he exclaimed. "I know those boys will get into mischief. They should be in bed at night, not going to moving picture shows."

"Oh, well," said the doctor with a sigh, "I think it will do them good. Let them go. Hereafter they may not have many opportunities of going anywhere from Riverview."

"Why, what is the matter?" asked the professor quickly, struck by something in the president's voice.

"I mean that I can't run the school much longer unless I get more money. We may have to close soon after the Christmas holidays," and shaking his venerable head Dr. Doolittle shut himself up in his study.

Frank Racer made up a good-sized crowd to go to the lecture at Marsden. The boys went on trolley cars and had much fun. It was quite an event for them, and Frank and Andy, who had really been the moving spirits, were cheered again and again.

As the crowd of Riverview boys were piling into the hall Jack Sanderson pulled Frank by the sleeve.

"Look over there," he said.

"What's up?"

"There's a whole raft of fellows from Waterside Hall."

"Well, what of it? This is a free country. I suppose they want to hear the lecture as much as we do."

"Yes, I was only thinking there might be trouble."

"It won't be of my making. Go on in and sit down."

It happened that the students from the rival schools sat on opposite sides of the large hall, well apart, so there was not even an exchange of words in the time that elapsed before the lecture began. After it was started it proved of such interest that it is doubtful if any student gave thought to the unpleasant incident of the rowing challenge and its reply. The speaker, in fancy, took his hearers into many strange lands and showed pictures of life there.

As the crowd filed out, as might have been expected there was a mingling of the students from the two schools. At first the lads, some of whom knew each other, passed friendly greetings, and Frank, who had feared there might be unpleasantness, began to feel reassured.

The lads drifted out into a large square in front of the building where the lecture had been given. It was not very late and there was no special reason for hurrying back. There were some good-natured chaffing on both sides, some laughter and inquiries after more or less popular or unpopular instructors. Then, like a flash from a clear sky, someone in the crowd of Waterside lads called out mockingly:

"There are the dubs who think they can row!"

He probably did not refer to Frank and their chums in particular, but meant to include the whole school. For a moment there was a silence, and then Jack Sanderson sang out:

"Yes, and there are the dubs who don't know how to answer a challenge in a gentlemanly way!"

It was a direct call-down for the athletic committee, members of which were present.

Once more a silence and then there burst out many remarks and calls from both sides, each one intended to be insulting.

"Look at the aristocrats who row in kid gloves!" yelled a Riverview lad.

"How did you farmers ever get time enough away from picking the hayseeds out of your hair to come to town?" some Waterside wit wanted to know.

"Those are the fellows who sleep in silk pajamas!" was a Riverview retort.

"Ha! Down there at Riverview they haven't any blankets, so they sleep in their clothes!" sneered a lad who evidently knew of the poverty of the school of our heroes.

The remarks were getting more and more personal. The tempers of the lads on each side were rising. In vain did Frank, Andy and some of the cooler-headed boys from Riverview go about trying to get their companions to leave, or keep quiet. Some students from Waterside Hall did likewise with their fellows, but it was useless. The students were in fighting mood now.

"You're afraid to row us!" taunted one Riverview lad.

"Well, we're not afraid to fight you!" came the quick retort.

That was the knocking of the chip from the shoulder, and in an instant several lads had come to a fistic clash. Then as at the drop of the hat, on every side there was a mêlée. Blows were given and taken, landing with dull thuds. There were cries of pain and anger.

"Riverview forever!" was the slogan. "Riverview to the bat!"

"Give 'em all they want, Waterside!" came the angry shout. "Knock 'em down and drag 'em out!"

"Andy, where are you?" yelled Frank.

"Right here!"

"Keep close to me, and we'll get out of this. It may be serious."

"What? Run? I will not! Wow! Someone hit me then, and I'm going to get back at him. It was that big chap there."

"Yes, and I'll soak you again!" answered the big fellow, aiming a blow at Andy.

"Oh, no you won't!" exclaimed Frank, and he promptly knocked down his brother's assailant.

The row was on in earnest now, and Frank and Andy, as well as Jack and Ward, found that they had their hands full. It was quite dark, so one could hardly see whether he was attacking friend or foe. But the fight went on, growing more and more fierce. Several lads were knocked down and trampled upon, and more than one had a bloody nose or a discolored eye. The yells and shouts could be heard all over town.

"Are you hurt, Andy?" panted Frank, who had managed to keep at the side of his brother.

"No, only I got a couple of good pokes. I gave 'em back, though."

"Let's try and work out of this. The police may come at any moment, and I don't want any of our friends to be locked up."

But to get out of that mad, seething, surging crowd was easier said than done. They were hemmed in and had to fight to keep their footing.

Suddenly, above the excited cries and the shouts of many bystanders for the police, was heard the ringing of the fire bell. Then the rumble and whistle of the approaching engines were audible. For a moment there came a lull in the desperate battle, but only for a moment. Then it was resumed again. Not for a little thing like a fire would the students stop fighting.

---

THE CHALLENGE ACCEPTED

"Riverview lads this way!"

"Over here, Waterside!"

"Ready for a rush!"

"Sweep 'em off their feet!"

These were the rallying cries that followed the momentary lull in the fighting. The students, who had their second wind, were preparing for a rush that might have had serious results, when suddenly there came a deluge of water. A spray of white shot into the air amid a puffing sound and descended in a drenching shower on the fighting crowd.

"Gee! it's raining!"

"Wow! I'm soaked!"

"It's the fire engines! They're turning the hose on us!"

These yells were substituted for the battle cries. And it was true, two powerful fire engines were squirting heavy streams on the belligerents.

It was the most effective measure that could have been taken. The chief of police, summoned by spectators of the big fight, and knowing that with his few men he could not cope with hundreds of excited students, had thought of the fire apparatus.

"It will disperse them quicker than anything else, and I won't have to disgrace them by making any arrests. Turn on plenty of water," said the chief.

And he had been obeyed. From two sides, taking them in front and at the rear, the engines played until gasping, choking, struggling to maintain their footing under the force of the streams, seeking to find a dry place, the fighting students turned and ran for cover.

"Riverview this way!" shouted Frank. "To the trolleys!"

"Over here, Waterside!" came the answering call.

"I guess they've had enough of river and water to-night," chuckled the chief of police. "My! that was hot while it lasted! What was it all about?" he asked of some of the bystanders who had been to the lecture and had seen the start of the row.

"Oh, it seems that Riverview challenged Waterside to a rowing race, and the Waterside lads sent back an insulting answer."

"Are they afraid to row the Riverview crowd?" asked the chief.

"It looks so," was the reply.

"It must be," said another man. "But I don't see what they're afraid of. Riverview hasn't much of a crew of late years."

"Still Waterside seems afraid," came the retort.

Thus was sown a little seed that was destined to bear much fruit and bring about a closer relation of the two schools.

The talk of the chief and his friends was heard in the crowd and was repeated. From mouth to mouth the news flew:

"Waterside was afraid to row Riverview and that started the fight." This rumor spread, gaining at each telling until it was heard by the retreating lads from the school that had insulted our heroes' crew.

"Afraid of those dubs?" cried one indignant and dripping Waterside lad. "Not on your life!"

"Then why don't you row them?" asked someone.

"They're not in our class."

"You're afraid, I guess."

"We are not."

"Then give them a race. That's the best way to prove it."

"Oh, what do you know about it, anyhow?" and with this rather ungracious retort the school lad hurried away to join his fellows.

"Humph! I know enough to know when some people aren't getting a square deal," said the man. "But Marsden certainly had her share of excitement to-night. I guess I'll go to bed."

While the lads from Waterside were making their way to their meeting-place, which they had agreed upon when leaving the trolleys to go to the lecture, the boys from the rival school were also congregating in readiness for going back to their dormitories. In consequence there was no further clash between the factions, for which Frank and Andy were glad.

"Say, what is this bunch, anyhow?" asked the conductor, as the wet and dripping boys piled aboard his car. "Are you from some swimming school?"

"No, we've just been showing the lads from Waterside how to behave," spoke Andy.

"Well, climb aboard, then," said the conductor. "But don't get any more water in the car than you can help."

It was a wet and weary crowd of students that alighted at Riverview Hall a little later. Some were bruised from the conflict with their rivals, many had fallen down and received cuts, while others were shivering from their damp and soaked clothes. It was little consolation to know that Waterside Hall students were in the same condition.

"Did you hear how one man was rigging a fellow from Waterside about them being afraid to row us?" asked Andy of Frank, as they sat shivering in a corner of the car.

"I sure did, but I don't think it will amount to much."

"Not unless we can scare those fellows into giving us a race. How's your nose?"

"Oh, it hurts. How's your leg?"

"I can walk on it, but that's about all. I'll be dead lame to-morrow. Some fellow gave me a fierce kick."

Then followed an exchange of experiences, in which the lads told how they had been hurt and how they had given good returns in exchange.

Fortunately, when they reached the school, Professor Callum was in Dr. Doolittle's room, consulting him, and so the unpopular instructor did not see the bedraggled group of students arrive. They hurried to their apartments and got into dry clothes.

Of course the next day the authorities at Riverview heard about the riot. But as there were no individual complaints, and as no special student's name was mentioned, no action was taken.

Dr. Doolittle contented himself with cautioning the boys about getting into conflicts with students from other schools. To this Professor Callum could not help adding a word. He said he thought he would be able to pick out the ring-leaders, and he warned them that unless they mended their ways they would be expelled.

"He means us," said Andy to Frank, as they filed out of the chapel.

"Well, what's the odds?" asked the older lad. "He daren't make any open remarks." So they let it go at that.

Meanwhile there was much disturbance at Waterside. The lad who had been taunted by the man in the crowd told his story, and there were storms of protest at the implied accusation.

"We're not afraid to row them!" declared the captain of the four.

"Then why don't you do it?" Tom Crawford wanted to know.

"They're not in our class."

"That's a poor excuse. If you can beat them do it good and proper. Then they won't want another race. Row 'em, is what I say."

"Same here!" came from a number of others, until the 'varsity four, for very shame's sake, was obliged to agree.

"Well, we'll accept their challenge," declared the captain of the four, after a hot discussion several days following the riot. "We'll give 'em a race, but it will be a walkover for us."

"Don't be too sure," said Tom Crawford, who had watched the improvised crew of Riverview on the river.

The surprise of Frank and his chums may be imagined when, a couple of days later, they received a communication from Waterside. It was brief, but to the point.

"Well, wouldn't that jiggle your oars!" cried Andy.

"It puts 'em just where we want 'em, though," declared Jack.

"Yes, I guess we'll have a race after all," said Frank. "That free-for-all fight wasn't so bad as it seemed."

Soon the news of the coming race had spread all over Riverview Hall.

---

PROFESSOR CALLUM SCORES

There was now some practicable object on the part of the crew of the Riverview Hall four, as Frank and his chums had come to be called. The date for the race had not been definitely fixed, but it could not take place inside of two weeks, as Waterside was to row Milton for the closing race of the season.

"And if Waterside wins, which means that they will be the champions of the river, and if we beat Waterside," said Andy, "it means that we'll be the champions! Think of that!"

"Wake up, you're dreaming!" said Jack.

"Yes, turn over, you're on your back," added Ward.

"Well, it's possible," declared Frank, "though I don't hope for any such luck."

"Don't you want to beat 'em?" asked Andy quickly.

"Sure, but I'm afraid we can't."

"That's treason!" declared Jack.

"Well, we can train, for one thing," said Ward, "and I'm in favor of it. We can be careful of what we eat, and from now on we ought to do some other practice work besides rowing. I'm in for any kind of gym work, or cross-country running to improve our wind."

"I'm with you!" cried Andy, and the rest agreed.

"We ought to have a coach," declared Jack.

"Maybe we could get old Wallace," said Ward eagerly.

"Who's old Wallace?" asked Frank.

"I don't wonder you ask, even though you've been here some weeks," said Ward. "He's a fellow who's taking a post-graduate course and he's such a grind that no one except the professors ever sees him. He used to be an oarsman and I understand he knows a lot about the game."

"The very thing—if we can get him!" cried Andy.

"I'll try," volunteered Ward. "I've done some favors for him, and he and I are quite friendly."

It was agreed that Ward should try, and this gave the crew something else to talk about. They adopted a schedule for a training table, for they all knew the value of proper food and the need of abstaining from that which was harmful. They would have to be their own masters, as there was no such thing as a training table at Riverview.

Frank also suggested that it would be a good plan to row over the racing course occasionally, and see what sort of time they could make.

"We'll have some of the fellows clock us," Jack said, "and we can get a line on what we can do. I know we've got to hit up the stroke if we're to beat Waterside, but we're capable of it."

"Sure!" agreed Andy with much enthusiasm. "We'll do those fellows easy. Say, I've thought up another joke to play."

"Not on your life!" cried the others in a chorus, while Frank added:

"If I catch you trying any of your tricks, brother mine, while this race is in prospect I'll pack you back home so quick that your hair will curl."

"Well, you needn't eat me up," complained Andy; but it was noticed that he did not mention jokes again for some time.

To the surprise and delight of the lads Ed Wallace agreed to coach them, though he said he had been out of the game so long that he was quite rusty. But when the crew went out in the shell, and listened to his caustic, but well-meant criticisms, it was seen that he knew his business.

"He'll put some starch into us," declared Frank, and the post-graduate student certainly did.

After he had given them some instructions on successive days they had marked off a three-mile course—the length of the interscholastic race. The Riverview lads rowed over this several times.

At first it was discouraging, as they could not come anywhere near equaling the record they knew had been made by Waterside. But they did not give up.

"There are only two things to do," Wallace told them. "You must increase the number of strokes and put more power in them. Then you'll win."

It sounded easy to say, but it was hard to do, as they seemed already to be pulling to the limit of their strength and endurance. But they found that they could do better, and soon, though muscles, wind and heart made a trio of protests, they knew they were coming nearer the time made by their rivals.

"I think you'll do," said Wallace at length. "Of course I don't mean to say you're as fast as those fellows, but you're in their class, and I think, in the time left, you can come up to them. I believe you can beat them, barring accidents."

"What, do you mean by accidents?" asked Andy.

"Well, you know our shell isn't very good. The outriggers are old and two of the oars are split. Something may break."

"Then we'll strengthen things!" exclaimed Frank, and for several nights after that he and his chums worked over the shell. They finally decided that they could do no more, and that it would have to serve.

"But if we win this race, we'll have a new shell next year!" declared Frank determinedly.

The time for the race was drawing near. In a week Waterside was to row Milton, and then, after a few days' rest, would take on Riverview. This would mark the closing of the season on the river. Incidentally our heroes and their chums learned that the race with themselves was regarded more or less as a joke.

"Well, we'll show 'em that it isn't!" declared Andy hotly. "I'm going to beat 'em now, or bust an oar."

"Don't do that!" cried Frank quickly. "We haven't any oars to spare. Just beat 'em."

"We will!" and his brother clapped him on the shoulder.

It was with no little satisfaction that the lads of Riverview heard of the defeat of Milton Academy by Waterside Hall.

"That's just what we want," declared the young captain. "It gives us a clear look-in for the championship. If Milton had won we'd have had to row them after we cleaned up Waterside."

"You're not at all confident," said Jack with a laugh.

All the time they could spare from their lessons the crew spent on the river. Sometimes they could only snatch a half hour, for with the advancement of the term studies became harder, and Mr. Callum added to the troubles of our friends, for he seemed to watch his chance for making it unpleasant for Frank or Andy and often kept them in after class for some real or fancied failing.

"But I'm not going to kick," said Frank grimly. "That's just what he's laying for. He wants to get a hold on us because we're helping Mrs. Morton and her daughter."

"Heard anything about that case lately?" asked Andy.

"Yes, dad's working on it. I suppose Lawyer Bolton is attending to his end of it. It will come out right, I hope."

It was the afternoon before the race with Waterside. Every last thing had been done, the final practice had been held, and the boys of Riverview were in good trim. They were fit to row for the championship.

"And I think you'll get it, too," declared Coach Wallace. "Go to bed early to-night, have a good sleep, take care of yourselves, and we'll have a race worth seeing to-morrow even if we have an old shell."

"That's the stuff!" cried a little crowd that had gathered at the boathouse. It had been repaired temporarily and was habitable. It was curious to see the sudden interest in athletics since the Racer boys had revived racing.

The crew, headed by Frank, was walking up to the dining hall, for it was nearly time for supper. A telegraph messenger was approaching at a slow walk, holding a message in one hand and in the other a dime novel which he was devouring in the half light.

"Hey! Where you going?" called someone.

The lad looked up with a start. Probably seven redskins had just "bitten the dust."

"I've got a message here for Mr. Frank Racer," he said.

"Hand it over," answered our hero. "I guess it's from dad," he went on to Andy.

Quickly he tore the envelope open. Then he uttered an exclamation.

"It's from Gertrude," he said to his brother in a low voice. "Old Thorny has scored one on us. He's brought suit, has secured judgment, and a deputy sheriff is in possession of their house! I've got to go at once!"

---

A MEAN TRICK

"You can't go, Frank!" exclaimed Andy, after a moment's thought.

"Why not?"

"Because we're going to race Waterside to-morrow."

"I know it, but this is to-night. I've got lots of time."

"Perhaps you have, but you heard what Wallace said. He wants us to get a good sleep, and be fresh for to-morrow. If you go chasing over to Dailsburg you won't get home until late and you'll be all broken up. Besides you may get in trouble with the deputy sheriff in possession, and have a row. Or you may get caught coming in late and be suspended. It's too risky."

"I tell you I'm going," said Frank determinedly. "I promised to help them and I'm going to keep my word."

"That's all right," half grumbled Andy, "but what's the matter with that lawyer, Mr. Bolton? I thought he was going to see to this."

"Perhaps he has forgotten it, or Thorny's lawyer may have played a sharp trick. Anyhow, I'm going to see what I can do."

"But if you're caught?"

"I won't be—don't worry."

"I say, what's up?" asked Jack, seeing that something was exciting the Racer brothers.

"I've got to go out of town on a little business," explained Frank quickly. "Oh, I'll be back in time to row the race," he added, as he saw looks of apprehension come over the faces of Jack and Ward.

"Well, if you have to—you have to, that's all, I suppose," commented Jack. "But take care of yourself—and get back soon."

Frank promised, and then started off to catch the first trolley car for Dailsburg.

"If Old Thorny comes to our room while I'm out, rig up some sort of a dummy in my bed," Frank instructed his brother. "Then you snore double, and if he does come in, tell him I'm not feeling well—which is the truth. If he sees a hump in the bed he'll think it's me."

"Do you think he'll be especially on the lookout to-night?" asked Ward.

"I believe he'd do anything to prevent me rowing in the race," answered Frank grimly. "Well, so long, fellows."

He hurried off, and his chums walked back to the school buildings discussing the coming race.

"Jove! I hope Frank gets back in time, and isn't caught!" exclaimed Andy a bit apprehensively. "He's taking chances—and all for a girl. Well—I guess I'd do the same if I had to."

Frank's first act, on reaching Dailsburg, was to go to a telephone and hold a conversation with Mr. Bolton, the lawyer his father had engaged. It was news to Mr. Bolton to learn that he had been outwitted.

"Go right to the Morton house," he directed Frank, "and stay until I come. Tell the widow and her daughter that I will soon have matters straightened out. I'll do it if I have to get a writ from the Supreme Court justice by waking him out of bed. Callum's lawyer has been up to some sharp practice."

The elder Racer lad found Mrs. Morton and Gertrude in a very nervous state when he arrived. In the parlor sat a burly representative of the sheriff's office. He was smoking and sat in one chair with his feet on another.

"Don't you know how to behave?" asked Frank indignantly. "This isn't a stable," and he knocked the cigar from the man's lips with a folded newspaper.

"Here! What are you up to?" yelled the fellow. "I'll have you in jail for that. I represent the law!"

"Then I'm sorry for the law," was Frank's rejoinder. "You stop smoking or I'll notify the sheriff of your conduct. I don't believe he'd stand for that."

"Oh, you mind your own business!" grumbled the deputy. But he did not light another cigar, and he took his feet from the chair.

Frank quickly told Mrs. Morton of the measures he had taken, and assured her that the fellow would soon have to leave.

"Oh, I don't know what we would ever do if it wasn't for you, Frank!" exclaimed Gertrude, blushing as she used his name. "I was desperate when that horrid man came in, and I could only think of one thing to do—notify you."

"I'm glad you did," he said heartily.

"And to-morrow is the day of the race," the girl went on. "I do hope this won't make you lose it! Grace and I are coming to see you win!"

"Then we surely will!" the lad exclaimed.

With Mrs. Morton they sat talking in the kitchen to be farther away from the obnoxious deputy. Two hours passed and there came a ring at the bell. It was Lawyer Bolton and he had succeeded in getting an order from the justice which amounted to a stay in the proceedings. The deputy was ordered to withdraw.

"How do I know this is genuine?" asked the fellow with a sneer, when the paper had been served on him.

"Oh, you'll find it's proper, my man," said Mr. Bolton. "If you like you can call up the sheriff, I have communicated with him. At any rate the house isn't going to be moved. Now you clear out!"

Grumblingly, and with a malevolent look at Frank, the fellow went out.

"This was partly my fault," apologized Mr. Bolton. "I should have been prepared for sharp practice on the part of Callum's representative, but I did not dream he would dare do this. He took advantage of a technicality in the law to get this writ of possession. But it is vacated now, and he can't do anything more until the case comes up for a hearing."

"And then what will happen?" asked Mrs. Morton.

"By that time my father will have the bonds sold and you can pay Professor Callum," said Frank quickly.

There was some further talk and Mr. Bolton left. Then, as it was getting late and Frank did not want to miss getting a trolley car back to school, he took his leave.

"And you must be sure to win!" Gertrude whispered to him.

"Yes. And you must be sure to be there."

"I will!"

Frank looked carefully about as he approached the campus of Riverview school. As he came near the place where the racing shell was kept he saw a light in the boathouse.

"That's queer," he mused, coming to a halt. "It's too late for any of the fellows to be in there. I wonder who it can be? It won't do any harm to take a look."

Cautiously he approached the building and peered in through a window. The sight he saw almost caused him to cry out in anger and amazement.

For there, standing over the shell, was Gerald Welter, the school bully. He had a lantern, and by the light of it Frank saw the gleam of a knife in his hand. As Frank looked he saw Gerald prepare to rip up the bottom of the shell, which act would utterly ruin it.

"The scoundrel!" murmured Frank.

The next instant the knife descended, its sharp point going clear through the frail shell. And then, with a cry of righteous anger, Frank dashed himself against the door of the boathouse, and fairly threw himself inside to confront the amazed and startled bully, who paused in the act of again plunging the knife into the racing craft.

---

THE FIGHT

"You—you miserable scoundrel!" gasped Frank. He made a rush for the bully, who instinctively stepped back.

"Don't—don't you dare touch me!" whined Welter, as the knife dropped from his trembling hand.

"Touch you! I'll give you the best thrashing you ever had!" cried the young captain. "What are you trying to do; ruin our shell so we can't race?"

"I—I was just—just seeing——"

"Don't make it any worse," broke in Frank bluntly. "I saw you jab one hole in it, and you were just going to make another when I caught you."

Once more the young captain approached him, and Welter shrank back.

"You ought to be put out of the school!" cried Frank. "What did any of us ever do to you that made you think of such a mean trick as this?"

"You—didn't you knock me down once?" demanded Welter.

"Oh, so that's the reason? You wanted revenge on me. Well, why didn't you come out like a man and say so? I'd have given you satisfaction any time. I'm going to have it out of you now."

"Don't you dare touch me!" cried the bully again.

"Put up your hands!" sternly ordered Frank. "This is going to be a fight to a finish!"

Instinctively Welter defended himself, as he saw Frank coming at him, and then, there in the boathouse, by the light of the lantern was fought one of the greatest fights in which our young hero ever had a part. It was not all one-sided, either, for Welter was tall and strong.

But he was no match for Frank, burning with anger as he was. The bully tried to block a blow from Frank's left, and countered with his right, but it never got through Frank's guard. Then, like a flash, the young captain crossed, and Welter staggered back from a heavy blow.

"Take that, and then see if you want to ruin any more shells!" exclaimed Frank, as he struck out with his left, straight from the shoulder.

His fist landed squarely on Welter's jaw and once more the bully went over, falling on a pile of sail cloth in one corner. He struggled to rise and Frank stood over him.

"Are you sorry for what you did?" the captain asked threateningly.

"Yes—yes!" stammered Welter, holding his jaw.

"And do you promise never to try such a sneaking act again?"

"I—I do. Oh, don't hit me again!"

"Then get up," spoke Frank grimly.

He turned aside, and was about to look at the damage done to the shell when he heard a movement behind him. He turned just in time to see Welter raising a broken oar over his head.

"Ah, would you!" cried Frank, skillfully ducking the blow aimed at him. The next instant he knocked the bully down again.

As Welter fell, a figure advanced from the outer darkness and stood in the doorway of the boathouse. Both lads saw it, and as Welter struggled to his feet a rasping voice exclaimed:

"Ah, Racer, this time I have caught you in the act! Out after hours and fighting! How dare you knock a fellow-student down?" and Professor Callum glared at our hero.

"Yes, this is the second time he knocked me down!" whined Welter.

"I knocked him down because he was about to hit me with an oar!" exclaimed Frank hotly. "It was a fair fight until he tried a mean trick."

"Then you admit you were fighting?" asked the professor craftily.

"Of course. And so would you have fought him if you saw what he did. He tried to ruin the shell, and the race comes off to-morrow."

"How dare you bring my name into this disgraceful affair?" demanded the teacher. "As if I would ever fight! I abhor it, and I detest those who fight."

"He hit me first," whined the bully.

"I have no doubt that he did, from what I know of him," agreed Mr. Callum.

"That's not so. It was a fair fight. I dodged his first blow and—well, it was a fair fight," murmured Frank.

"That will do. I shall at once report you to Dr. Doolittle. You may consider yourself suspended, Racer. I saw you deliberately knock Welter down. You are suspended!"

"And—and can't I race to-morrow?" pleaded Frank, his heart beating so hard as almost to choke him.

"Race! I should say not!"

Frank made a bold resolve. Matters could not be made much worse and he decided to risk an appeal to the irate professor.

"Look here, Professor Callum," said Frank. "I know you don't like me or my brother, but can't you at least be fair?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm telling you the truth. I was out after hours. I admit that. Coming home I saw a light in here, and I saw Welter in the act of putting holes in the bottom of the shell. There is one slit he cut, and here is the knife he used." Stooping quickly Frank picked up the weapon that had dropped from the bully's hand. "Now all I ask is a fair show," went on the captain. "I'm willing to be suspended, but can't you wait until after the race, Professor? Give Riverview a chance to beat Waterside?"

Frank paused in his pleading. Welter was observing him with a mocking smile. There seemed to be some struggle going on within Professor Callum. Perhaps he remembered that he was once a boy. Perhaps he saw the justice of the demand Frank made. Perhaps he was weary of the low place Riverview held in athletics. At any rate he said grimly:

"Very well, Racer. I will suspend judgment on you this once. But don't think you are going to escape. Fighting is a flagrant breach of the rules here, and you must be punished. But you need not report to Dr. Doolittle until after the race. Then I shall prefer a charge against you."

"That's all I ask," said Frank heartily. "I'm not afraid of punishment, but I do want to beat Waterside. If we win," he added in a lower voice, "I don't care what happens."

"You may go to your rooms now," went on Mr. Callum. "Remember, Racer, see the doctor immediately after the race. I will be there waiting for you."

"Nice prospect," thought Frank; but somehow there was joy within him. He made a hurried examination of the shell and saw that it could be fixed with about an hour's work. Professor Callum left the boathouse. Welter hurried after him, probably in fear lest Frank might renew hostilities. But our hero had no such intentions. Besides he had inflicted enough punishment on the bully.

"Oh, by the way," Mr. Callum called after Welter. "You are out after hours, too; you may also report to Dr. Doolittle—after the race."

"All right," muttered Welter.

Frank found Andy awake when he entered the room and his brother became more so when he heard the story of the night.

"By jinks!" exclaimed Andy. "I didn't think any fellow could be so mean! Are you sure we can fix the shell?"

"Oh, yes. We'll have the race all right. Now go to sleep. I'm dead tired and I want to be as fresh as possible for to-morrow."

---

THE BOAT RACE

"Now mind," said Frank to his brother and the other members of the crew the next morning when they gathered in the boathouse, "not a word of what happened last night. It's a disgrace to our school to have a fellow like Welter in it, and we don't want it to get out."

"But what about the hole in the boat?" asked Ward, he and Jack, in addition to Andy, being the only ones whom Frank had told about the damage to the shell and the fight that followed.

"Oh, no one else need know about it," went on the captain. "We'll just patch it up and keep it to ourselves."

"You've got a cut chin, how will you explain that?" Jack wanted to know.

"I won't have to."

"But maybe Welter will talk," suggested Andy.

"Not much," was the significant reply from Frank. "No, it will be kept quiet until after we're up before the doctor and even after that I don't think it will come out. I'm going to tell exactly how everything happened and if I'm allowed to stay here I'll make Welter leave the school, or we'll send him to 'Coventry' and he'll be glad to quit."

"That's the stuff!" exclaimed Ward. "Well, now let's see if we can do anything with the shell."

It was the morning of the race, a glorious fall day, just right for a swift row. Many of the schoolboys had gathered about the boathouse, but none was admitted. Coach Wallace was on hand early and some excuse was made to him in regard to the hole in the shell. He helped the crew to fix it, and, being wise in his day, he asked no questions.

"There, it's as good as ever," he announced, when the piece of canvas had been put over the cut and covered with a water-proof mixture. "It won't leak and it's stronger than before. Oh, but I wish you had a new shell."

"Don't mention it," spoke Frank. "If we win this race, though, we may have one next year."

"Well, we're going to win all right!" exclaimed Andy, and the others nodded their heads emphatically.

The race was to be rowed over a course that began and ended at Waterside. This school had insisted on that as one of the conditions, and as they stood in the position of champions they could impose their own rules.

"Now remember," said the coach, giving them his final instructions, "the course is three miles, a mile and a half to the stake boat and the same distance back to the finish line at the Waterside boathouse. Don't be in too much of a hurry. Take it easy at first and watch the other fellows. When they begin to hit up the pace don't bite. They'll likely do that to draw you on. Take it easy until after you round the stake boat, but don't let them draw ahead of you. The real fight will be at the finish."

The race was to start at two o'clock and at noon the crew ate a light lunch. Then they took a rest and had half an hour of light exercise. The shell was to be towed down to the starting point by a motor launch that had been generously donated by a gentleman who once was quite an oarsman.

"I'm glad to see that Riverview is waking up," he said heartily, when he called for the crew, as Frank and his chums and Coach Wallace were to go down the river in the motor craft, their shell towing on behind.

There was a large crowd assembled around the Waterside boathouse when our heroes and their shell arrived. Though the race was still regarded as something of a joke by the rivals of our heroes, still word had gone around that the match might furnish good sport.

"Three cheers for Riverview!" called someone in the crowd. The answer was given heartily and, looking up, Frank saw Tom Crawford, the lad whom he had rescued.

"Three cheers for Waterside!" called one of the crowd of Riverview students who had come down to see the race.

"This is something that hasn't happened in many years," remarked Wallace as the cheers died away. "To have Riverview cheering and being cheered. I guess a better day is coming for the old school."

Captain Roth, of the Waterside four, advanced and shook hands with Frank. The conditions of the race were discussed and agreed to, and one or two disputed points settled. Both crews were warned against fouling by the officials, and then they were ordered to get ready to start at the pistol shot.

"Old Thorny had a streak of white in him somewhere," said Andy to his brother, "to let you off for the race."

"Yes, but think of what's coming afterward," answered the captain, as he looked at the outriggers to be sure they were in good condition.

"Oh, well, forget it. Say, there's someone waving to you."

"Where?"

"Over in that crowd of girls."

Frank looked quickly and caught a glimpse of a handkerchief being shaken at him.

"It's Gertrude Morton," he said, "and Grace Knox is with her. I guess she's waving to you, Andy."

"Aw, cheese it. Let's get in."

The lads of Waterside were carefully taking their places in their shell which was held steady for them by several of their comrades. As the Riverview crew entered theirs, a like service was performed by some of their lads.

There were a few moments of nervous preparation, a settling in their seats on the part of the rowers, a testing of the oarlocks.

"Take your places," ordered the starter, and slowly the two shells were rowed out from the float to the middle of the stream. At this point there was scarcely any current, so there was little difficulty in holding the frail craft in line until the starting shot was fired.

Once more came a moment of nervous tension. Each captain looked at his crew, then glanced over toward the motor boat containing the officials.

"Are you ready?" asked the starter.

"Ready!" answered Captain Roth.

"Ready!" called Captain Racer.

A puff of smoke and a sliver of flame shot out of the revolver barrel, followed by the sharp report.

Crack! It was like the snap of a whip.

Eight oars took the water as one, the broad blades slipping in with scarcely a ripple. Eight sturdy backs bent to the stroke, and the thin knife-like shells cleaved the water. The race was under way.

"Steady, boys, steady," called Frank in a low voice, as he set the stroke. "Don't get excited." He panted to look over and see what his rivals were doing, but he refrained for a moment. He wanted to get his lads into the swing of it. Then he glanced across the little stretch of river that separated the two shells. Waterside was a quarter of a length ahead, and for an instant Frank was tempted to increase his stroke. Then he remembered what the coach had said and he kept on at the same even pace. He could hear the puffing of the official boat as it followed the two shells.

Suddenly a cheer burst out from the bank, along which many excited lads were running. It was a hearty cry and was followed by the yell of Waterside.

"That's the way to do it! Walk away from them!" yelled a clear voice.

"They're ahead!" panted Andy.

"Don't talk!" cautioned Frank. For a moment he doubted the wisdom of not matching his own stroke to that of his rivals and then he decided to hold himself in check. The good sense in this was soon manifested, for Waterside began to slow up and soon the two boats were on even terms. The effort to get Riverview to make a spurt early in the race had failed.

The struggle now settled down to one of determination, of strength and endurance. Gradually the banks thinned of spectators for they wanted to be back at the finish line. Frank could hear his three chums breathing hard but he knew they were in no distress. Occasionally the young captain glanced across at Waterside. Frank fancied he could see a mocking smile on the face of Captain Roth.

As the two shells approached the stake boat neither one seemed to have the advantage. But this was a point where skill would tell, for an advantage might be gained here. Frank, in a low voice, issued his instructions. He was jockeying to make the inside turn, but at the last moment Ward missed a stroke and the Riverview shell swung awkwardly around.

"Look out! You'll foul us!" yelled Captain Roth.

"Yes. Be careful," warned the judge through his megaphone.

There was no help for it. Frank and his comrades had to pull out and let the Waterside shell take the inside course, which gave the rivals of our heroes a decided advantage.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" wailed Ward.

"Never mind!" exclaimed Frank quickly. "You couldn't help it. Save your breath for rowing. We're going to beat 'em yet!"

They swung around the stake boat and were off on the homeward course. But Waterside was two lengths ahead.

"Now we've got to increase our stroke!" murmured Frank. "Quicker, fellows!" he called.

The little accident had served them one good turn, it had given them an instant to get their breaths. Now with fierce energy the Riverview lads dipped their broad blades into the water.

Occasionally Frank, throwing a glance over his shoulder, noted the space of water that separated the shells. He fancied it was growing less. Or was it but a fancy?

"I'll catch them!" he thought. "We've got to!"

Along the bank he could see a few straggling spectators who could not find room opposite the finish line.

"We must be getting there," thought the captain. "More power, boys!" he called.

Riverview was rowing now as she had never rowed before. Arms were aching under the strain. Lungs were panting. Eyes could scarcely see, but the boys kept on.

Suddenly something came in the line of Frank's vision, to one side. It was the end of the Waterside shell. He had pulled up on his rival.

"Row, boys! Row!" he pleaded, and how Andy and the others did row!

Farther and farther along the Waterside shell crept that of Riverview. The crowds were yelling and shouting now in a very frenzy. It was a close race, much closer than they had expected.

"Row! Row!" panted Frank. He increased the stroke and his crew was with him. The boats were on even terms now. Frank could see that his rivals were almost at the limit of their strength and endurance. They had unwisely made their spurt too soon after rounding the stake boat.

"We've got to gain more! We've got to gain more!" Frank thought desperately.

Inch by inch his shell crept up on that of Waterside. Could he and his mates stand the strain a minute longer? It did not seem possible, yet they must—or lose.

Suddenly there was a revolver shot. It was the warning gun to tell that they were a hundred feet from the finish line.

"Now! For all you're worth! For the honor of Riverview!" cried Frank with his last breath.

Desperately he and his chums dug their blades into the water. Their example was followed by the crew of Waterside. The Riverview shell shot ahead. There was a riot of cheers. Frank fancied he could hear a girl's voice. Waterside made a last desperate effort, but it was too late. They were rowed out.

Then, with one final heart-breaking spurt, Frank and his crew sent their boat under the finish line. They scarcely dared look across to see where their rivals were, but when they did they saw that as their stern passed the mark the sharp bow of the other shell was just reaching it.

"Won by a length!" cried Frank, scarcely able to speak. "Fellows, Riverside has the race!"

And a burst of cheers, shrill cries from girls, hoarse shouts from men, yells from the victorious school lads, greeted our heroes as they rested on their oars, panting, exhausted and weary, but inexpressibly happy. For had they not won? Had not the despised crew beaten the best four on the river? And was not Riverview coming into her own once more?

"Oh, it was a good race! A good race!" murmured Frank, as they slowly rowed back to the float and saw the welcoming hands stretched out to them. "A good race!"

---

SPEAKING THEIR MINDS

"Well done, boys! Well done!" cried Coach Wallace, as he grasped Frank's hand.

"Yes, too well done to suit us," murmured Captain Roth ruefully. "My, but you fellows can row!" he complimented. "We were all in, but you finished strong. Will you shake?" and he gazed at the rival captain admiringly, holding out his hand.

"Sure," came Frank's quick answer. "I'm sorry we beat you, but it had to be."

"And with an old patched-up shell at that," went on the loser. "You ought to have a decent boat."

"Maybe we will have now that we've shown what we can do," said Andy with a smile. The members of the defeated crew shook hands with their successful rivals.

"Three cheers for Riverview!" called someone, and the resulting cries were like music to the ears of Frank and his comrades.

"Three cheers for Waterside!" proposed Frank, and they were given with hearty good will.

"Oh, I just knew you could do it!" exclaimed a gentle voice at Frank's side, and turning, he saw Gertrude Morton. A ruddy glow was spread over her face as she held out her hand to Frank, and if he held her fingers longer than was really necessary no one was inclined to blame him. "It was perfectly splendid!" she went on. "You're the champions of the river now!"

"How do you make that out?" inquired the young captain, forgetting for the moment in the excitement of victory.

"Why if Waterside won from Milton, and you beat Waterside then you have beaten them both. Q. E. D. you know; like a problem in geometry."

"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Frank with a laugh.

He was shouldering his way through a press of people, many of whom wanted to shake hands with him, but he managed to keep his place beside Gertrude. Andy had in some manner fallen in step with Grace Knox, and they were talking gaily. On all sides could be heard expressions of wonder that a comparatively unknown and new crew could have administered such a beating to Waterside.

"We haven't any excuses," said Captain Roth manfully. "We were beaten fairly and squarely."

Frank and Andy would have preferred remaining at Waterside for a while, in the company of their girl friends, but as they were rather lightly clad and began to feel the cool air since they were not in motion, and as Ward and Jack wanted to get back, our heroes said good-bye, promising to call soon.

They went back in the motor boat, their shell towing behind, and on the trip up the river they were frequently saluted by various craft, the captains of which had in some manner learned of the victory.

"I wonder what Dr. Doolittle will say when he hears about it?" asked Jack.

"That's so. I've got to go on the carpet when I get back," exclaimed Frank. "I forgot all about it for a while. Well, I don't care what happens, now that we won."

"And we came mighty near losing when I caught that crab at the stake boat," put in Ward.

"It might have looked so for a time," said Frank, "but I really think it helped us to win. Waterside thought they had a big advantage and they hit up their stroke right away. They were rowed out before they knew it and we still had some wind left."

"Glad you look at it that way," replied Ward.

Practically all of the Riverview school lads had gone to see the race, so there was no crowd on hand to welcome the crew as they pulled their shell from the water at the boathouse. But there was one grim figure on hand and that was Professor Callum. His eyes sought out Frank.

"Dr. Doolittle is waiting for you," said the crabbed instructor. "You are to go up at once. I will be there!" he added significantly.

"Can't I change my clothes?" asked Frank, for he was in his racing togs.

"I suppose so," was the grudging answer, "but don't be long."

"It's like going to the dentist's; isn't it?" asked Andy of his brother, as the two were dressing in their room.

"Yes, and the sooner it's over with the better. There, I guess I'm fit to go."

Andy followed his brother out of the room.

"Where are you going?" asked Frank in some surprise.

"With you, of course."

"But you're not involved. You weren't fighting."

"I know it, but I'm going to see Dr. Doolittle just the same," was the dogged answer. "If you're expelled I resign, that's all."

"Oh, but that's foolish."

"All right, then I'm silly, but I'm going just the same."

Frank looked at his brother a moment and something glistened in his eyes. Then, placing his arm in that of Andy's, the two went together to the office of the head of the school.

"Ha! Hum! I believe there is some matter that requires my attention," said Dr. Doolittle slowly, looking over his spectacles as the Racer boys entered. Professor Callum had preceded them inside the room. "Some matter of school discipline I believe you said, Professor?"

"Yes. To be brief, as I was returning from having delivered a lecture on early Assyrian manners before the Philosophical Research Society last night I saw a light in the boathouse. I approached and found Frank Racer attacking Gerald Welter. He had knocked him down, and——"

"It was in a fair fight!" interrupted Frank.

"Ah, then you admit that you were fighting?" asked Mr. Callum quickly.

"Of course," replied our hero. "And I told you why we were fighting. He tried to ruin our racing shell. If you'll call Welter here I think he'll be man enough to admit it, too!" finished Frank.

"Ah, unfortunately we can not have Welter here," said Professor Callum. "He has—er—withdrawn from the school."

This was news to Frank and Andy.

"Withdrawn from the school!" exclaimed the doctor. "That is unfortunate." It seemed that he regretted more the loss of tuition fees than anything else.

"You have heard what Frank Racer admits," went on the crabbed instructor. "I now demand that he be expelled for fighting."

"Um! Yes! Fighting," murmured Dr. Doolittle in a dreamy sort of voice. "Fighting is very bad. It is expressly forbidden, and those who indulge in it are liable to expulsion. I am sorry——"

"Doctor, let me speak!" suddenly exclaimed Frank. "I did fight, but there was a good cause for it. I'm going to tell you some things that maybe you don't know. After that I'm willing to be expelled."

"Same here!" murmured Andy.

"Such impudence!" exclaimed Mr. Callum. "You ought not to listen to them, Dr. Doolittle."

"It won't take long," spoke Frank significantly. "When we were sent here, Dr. Doolittle, my brother and I thought we were coming to an up-to-date school. Instead we found that it was a back number, and it's getting to be worse every day!"

Mr. Callum looked shocked and horrified. Dr. Doolittle acted as though he was awakening from some dream.

"This school is no good to a live chap who likes sport," went on Frank. "It's a dead one."

"Punk!" interjected Andy.

"That's the reason it's going to rack and ruin!" continued the elder lad, who grew enthusiastic as he thought of his wrongs. "No fellows that care for fun, or who have money to spend on it, will come here.

"Look at the baseball diamond! It's like some cow pasture, and the football gridiron is even worse. There isn't a grandstand worth the name. The fences are falling down, and the boathouse too. If my brother, and I and a few of our friends, hadn't fixed the boathouse, propped it up and covered the hole in the roof, it would have been in ruins long ago."

He paused for breath, for he had been talking rapidly.

"Is it possible? Is it possible?" murmured the doctor.

"And look at your school buildings!" Frank continued. "Why, some of them are dangerous, and the rooms we fellows have are worse than some tenements. It's a wonder you have any pupils at all. I'm not saying it's your fault, Dr. Doolittle. We all like you—there isn't a fellow here who doesn't think you're the finest scholar there is—but that doesn't make a school. You've got to have a sporting and a school spirit. I know, for I've been to other schools.

"And now about this fight. I'll tell you how it happened. When my brother and I came here we wanted to get up a rowing crew. It was hard work, for there wasn't anything to start with, but we did manage to find an old four-oared shell, and we patched it up. Then we practiced hard, my brother, Jack Sanderson, Ward Platt and myself.

"I won't deny but what there was bad feeling between Gerald Welter and myself. I claim it was his fault, but we needn't discuss that now." Frank was talking broadly and with an ease at which he wondered afterward. But; as he said, he felt that it was his last chance and he determined that Dr. Doolittle should know the truth.

"We had hard work using the old shell," Frank went on, "and we had harder work getting Waterside to accept our challenge. But they finally did, and the race was arranged. Then last night—the night before it was to take place—I saw Welter trying to damage our shell, because of his grudge against me. I stopped him after he had made one knife jab in it, and then—well we did fight and I whipped him. We fixed the shell, and what's more we won the race with Waterside. To-day Riverview school is champion of the river in the four-oared class!"

Frank bowed as he finished. He was about to leave the room, for he had no other thought but that he would be expelled. But he had had the satisfaction of speaking his mind.

"That's all I have to say," he concluded. "We tried to do our best to make your dead school into a live one."

"But it's awful dead yet," added Andy, as he prepared to follow his brother.

"Stop a moment!" exclaimed Dr. Doolittle. He was rubbing his eyes. He sat up straight in his chair. The look of dreamy wonder had gone from his face. His eyes sparkled. "Did I understand you to say that you won the race—that Riverview is—er—once more champion—as she once was?"

"She is," said Frank briefly.

"Then, boys, I want to congratulate you!" cried the doctor enthusiastically. "I thank you from the bottom of my heart!"

With a gratified look on his face he advanced toward the boys, holding out his hands.

"I realize," he said, "that our school is not what it ought to be. We have fallen upon evil days, and lack of money is the chief cause. But it is remarkable—you won the race! You are champions! It is almost incredible! I never thought to hear such news again! You deserve the thanks of the whole school!"

He shook hands with them, smiling the while. Professor Callum looked on with ill-concealed anger. He was getting impatient for the last act.

"I suppose there is nothing further to say," he began, in his rasping voice. "Racer has confessed to fighting, and he will doubtless be expelled, Dr. Doolittle?"

"He will—not!" exclaimed the doctor in hearty tones.

"Wha—what?" gasped Professor Callum.

"He will remain in this school," went on the doctor, "and I hope he and his brother will do their best to establish a sporting spirit. It is just what we need. Riverview wants some good red blood! I—er—I don't approve of fighting as a rule, but in this case—why—er—um—I wish I had had your chance to see this one, Professor Callum! You may go, boys. Champions of the river! Well! Well!"

---

CHET SEDLEY ARRIVES

What took place between Dr. Doolittle and Professor Callum after Frank and Andy had left, our heroes did not hear definitely. That there was quite a discussion they did not doubt, and as a matter of fact some students who had occasion to pass the door a little later heard high voices.

One of them was that of the irate professor, while no less determined was that of Dr. Doolittle. The head of the school seemed at last to have awakened from the literary dream in which he passed most of the time.

"I think there's going to be a great change for Riverview one of these days," said Donald Burgess, one of the seniors, to a classmate.

"Yes, and the Racer boys will be responsible for it more than anyone else," agreed Duke Yardly. "I guess it's up to us fellows to do something, now that they've won the rowing race. Some football would hit me about right.

"Same here. I understand they have two scrub teams, but the gridiron is in rotten shape."

"That's right. Well, if those Racer boys want to start a subscription to get it fixed up I'll give my share."

"So will I, and I guess some of the other fellows will also. I'm going to speak to 'em about it. All it needs is some one to start things. We've been in a rut here long enough."

"I'm glad Welter has gone," said one little lad who had been made the butt of many a cruel joke on the part of the bully. "Some of us small chaps can have a little fun now."

The rowing season was practically ended but it did not pass without further gratification on the part of Frank and his chums. For they received a challenge from Milton Academy, asking for a race the following year.

"Nothing succeeds like success," said Frank, as he wrote an answer stating that the race would take place in the spring.

As might be expected, Professor Callum was more than ever incensed against Frank and Andy. In every way he sought to make life miserable for them, not only when they were reciting in his class, but out of school hours as well.

However, our heroes were prepared and they gave him little chance to inflict punishment on them. Once or twice though, he caught them napping and many an extra hundred lines of Latin prose they had to write out. This, however, had its good effect, for it perfected them in this study, which they might otherwise have neglected.

There was a different spirit awakening in the school. The lads seemed brighter, and many simple sports such as hare and hounds, and cross country running, or walking matches, were gotten up, in which Frank and Andy took prominent parts.

The school faculty seemed different, too, and a few days after Frank's open-hearted talk with the doctor some much needed repairs were made to some of the buildings.

"Though where the money comes from I don't know," said Old Wallace. Everyone called him "Old" Wallace though he was a young chap. "I hear that some of the professors haven't been paid for months," he added. "Maybe that's what makes Thorny crosser than usual."

"In that case," thought Frank, "he'll do all he can to make it unpleasant for Gertrude and her mother. I must write to dad and see if he can't collect on those bonds." He did so, getting an answer that the company was in litigation in the courts and that it would be some time before a settlement could be made.

"Then I'm going to advance money on them myself," Frank wrote back. "Andy is with me in it, too." So, though his father rather objected to this proceeding, arrangements to this end were started.

The football talk, which had been rather listless at first, following the rowing race, became more pronounced. The lads who had formed two scrub elevens practiced more frequently on the gridiron, part of which had been cleared of heaps of dirt, stones and a thick growth of weeds.

"We ought to try and see if we can't get up two regular teams," suggested Frank one afternoon, when he and Andy, having donned their suits, which they had had sent from home, were out on the field. "Maybe we could get a game with Milton or Waterside."

"I'm afraid not," spoke Old Wallace, who was one of the best of the football squad. "They probably have their dates all filled, though they might give us one with the scrub."

"No, sir!" exclaimed Frank. "If we play at all we play the varsity or nothing."

"Then I guess we won't play," said Burgess with a shrug of his shoulders, as he ran out on the field to catch a ball kicked high into the air by Andy.

But Frank did not give up, though he had rather an up-hill struggle. Plenty of the boys were in favor of having a football team, but when it came to putting up money to have the grandstands repaired and the gridiron made so it could be used, they balked. And it wasn't because they were afraid to spend the cash, but they didn't have it. Few rich men's sons attended Riverview.

"Maybe they will, after they hear that we've beaten the Waterside four," suggested Andy hopefully.

"I'd use all the money I got from selling the whale only I want it to take up those bonds," said Frank. "I can't let Thorny get ahead of me now and make trouble for Gertrude."

"That's right. Well, I guess we can't have any football eleven this year."

But still the lads kept up practice, and gradually they were perfecting themselves.

One crisp afternoon, when both scrub teams were having an improvised game on the gridiron, Frank got possession of the ball, and started down the field on a dead run to make a touchdown. He had the pigskin tucked under his arm and was running low and hard with lowered head. He had eluded the other side's fullback and was headed straight for the goal posts. A figure stood between them, a figure that, somehow, seemed strangely familiar to Frank. But he did not stop then to think who it was.

"He'll get run down if he stands there," he murmured, for Frank wanted to put the ball as near the middle as possible to render a kick for goal more certain.

"Look out!" yelled Frank. The figure between the posts never moved and the next instant our hero crashed full into the other lad, sending him flying to one side, and knocking him down.

"I'm sorry, old man, but I couldn't help it," apologized Frank after he had touched down the ball. "I called to you to get out of the way."

"You had no business to run into me!" exclaimed the other lad, as he got up and began brushing off the dirt from an evidently new suit. "I shall report you to the head master for this."

Something in the tones of the voice caused Frank to look more closely at the speaker. He could not repress a start of astonishment, for confronting him was the dude of Harbor View.

"Chet Sedley!" gasped Frank.

"Frank Racer!" exclaimed Chet.

"What in the world are you doing here, Chet?" Frank went on.

"I'm coming here to school, what do you suppose I'm doing?" was the pert answer. "But I'm not going to play football if you're as rough as that," and the dudish youth continued to brush off his clothes and dust his shoes with a highly perfumed handkerchief.

---

A HAZING

Frank was so surprised at first at the sight of the Harbor View dude, as he was called, that he paid no attention to his companions, who came racing up after his run down the field with the ball.

"Friend of yours, Frank?" asked John North, and he eyed the new arrival with no friendly eyes, for Chet had a proud and supercilious air that did not add to his charm.

"Yes, he comes from the town where we spend our summers," replied Frank.

"Well, if it isn't Chet Sedley!" exclaimed Andy, coming up at that moment. "How are fresh clams selling, Chet?"

Andy referred to the time when some of the bivalves had fallen from a wagon on a new pair of tan shoes the dude had purchased.

"Oh, you mind your business!" retorted Chet. "I'll have you know you can't play any more jokes on me. I won't stand it, and if you do I'll report you to the head master."

"For cats' sake! Are you coming here?" demanded Andy.

"I certainly am," declared Chet. "An aunt of mine died and left me a lot of money. My folks wanted me to come to a swell school, and I picked out this one because I had heard your mother say it was a good one. It doesn't look very swell though," and Chet, who had only gotten off the river steamer a little while previous, looked about the unkempt grounds and at the rather forlorn buildings.

"Oh, it's swell all right," said Jack Sanderson with a laugh. "It swelled up so that it burst, and now it has to start over again."

Chet looked worried, but determined not to pay too much attention to what the lads said, as he realized that he was probably being made the butt of a joke.

"Introduce your friend," invited Ward Platt to Frank, and when the latter attempted this Chet said with scornfully turned up nose:

"I don't know that I care to meet everyone. I expect to move only in the best crowd and I think I'll pick my own friends after I've been here a while."

"Oh, you will; eh?" exclaimed Frank. "All right, if he thinks he's too good for us, fellows, let him alone. Come on, Ward, and see if you can kick goal."

"Er—may I ask—where is the office of the head master?" began Chet, for he was at a loss which way to go.

"You may ask, but I don't know as we'll tell you," said Andy. "One thing though, keep off the gridiron. It might soil your shoes."

There was a laugh at this and Chet, darting an angry look at Andy and Frank as the chief of his tormentors, hurried away toward the main group of buildings.

"Doesn't seem very friendly," commented Duke Yardly.

"No, and I'm sorry he came here," said Frank. "He's a snob of the worst kind. Riverview, bad as she may be off in other lines, hasn't had any snobs since Welter left."

"Oh, I'm glad Chet has come," spoke Andy.

"You are; why?" asked Frank.

"Because he'll give us a chance for some fun," replied his brother. "We haven't hazed any one yet and it's time we began. Chet will be our meat. It will do more for the school than a football victory. I've got a peach of a plan to do it."

"Yes, all we'll have to do will be to leave that to you," admitted Frank with a laugh. "Well, let's go on with the game."

Andy's determination to haze Chet found unexpected favor with several students. It appears that when Chet found out that the school was in poor circumstances, which he did very soon after his arrival, he made many mean and slighting remarks about not only that, but about the lads who attended.

Now it is one thing to disparage yourself or your possessions, but it is quite another matter when some one else does it. Consequently Chet got himself heartily disliked before he had been at Riverview two hours.

His conduct in the dining hall at supper time added to this. He appeared in a dress suit—something that had never been known to happen at the school save at some formal banquet. Then Chet found fault with the food and with those who sat next him at table, for being a late arrival he was placed with the lowest form boys, a sort of grammar grade.

"I'm not going to eat here!" Chet complained. "I want to be at the head table."

"You will have to speak to Dr. Doolittle about it," said one of the monitors who waited on the table.

"I will, and I'll have my seat changed too!" threatened the dude.

"Positively he must be hazed to-night," whispered Andy to Frank and a select crowd of his chums, and they agreed to it. "Be ready then," ordered the younger Racer lad, who had assumed charge of the arrangements.

On the campus of Riverview there had been recently erected a large, new and very strong flag pole. It was the gift of a former graduate, but as yet the flag had not arrived. The halyards were all rigged, however, and this suggested something to Andy.

"We'll tie Chet to the ropes and hoist him to the top," he said. "That will be a sign that he's better than the rest of us, as he's so much above us. It ought to satisfy him."

"Will it be safe?" asked Frank, who was more cautious.

"The pole and ropes are strong enough," said Jack.

"We can take some of the old mattresses that used to be in the gymnasium," suggested Ward. "If he falls he'll land on them and not hurt himself."

"Wait! A better plan yet!" cried Andy. "We'll have a tub of water at the foot of the pole and lower him into that. If he's so hot for polite society he'll get cooled off."

"Good!" cried the lads, and they laid their plans accordingly.

It was the hour of midnight when several stealthy figures stole along the corridor leading to the room which had been assigned to Chet Sedley.

"Go easy," cautioned Andy. "Old Thorny may be on the job, and he'd spoil the fun if he could."

"Suppose Chet makes a row?" asked Frank.

"I've got some rags I'm going to stuff in his mouth," answered his brother.

They found Chet's door locked, and to their cautious knock he made answer:

"Who's there?"

"We represent the society of Blue Bloods," answered Andy in muffled tones. "We'd like to have you join. It is a very secret society and we only meet at night, as the professors are opposed to it. Will you come out and join?"

"Sure!" cried Chet, delighted to think that he had so soon been singled out for the honor. "Wait until I dress."

"Never mind that," hastily urged Andy. "We will dress you in the robes of the novice as soon as we reach our rooms. Slip on a bath robe."

"In a minute! In a minute!" said Chet hastily. They could hear him moving about the room, and the next moment his door was opened.

"This way," whispered Andy, taking care to keep his face in the shadow of the single hall light. "Take my hand. Move on, true and loyal members of the Blue Bloods! We have the honored candidate!"

"I'm ever so much obliged for letting me join," began Chet.

"Silence!" whispered Frank. "You may not be so glad—later," he added in a low voice.

The others managed to get Chet outside of the building before he suspected anything, and without arousing any of the professors or monitors. Then an unlucky gleam from a lamp shone on Andy's face. Chet instantly drew back.

"No, you don't!" he cried. "I see your scheme now! You are going to do something to me!"

"How'd you guess it?" demanded Andy.

"I tell you I won't go!" cried the dudish pupil, struggling to break away.

"Quick with that gag or he'll arouse the school!" whispered Frank, and a bundle of rags was quickly tied over Chet's mouth. His struggles were in vain, as he was lifted up and fairly carried to the flag pole.

It was the work of but a few minutes to fasten the rope about him, and Frank took pains to see that it would not slip loose, so there would be no danger.

"Up with him!" exclaimed Andy. "He will be very much above us all shortly."

Chet made inarticulate murmurs, but could not speak. His struggles availed him nothing. A moment later he was being hoisted to the top of the pole.

The boys were not cruel, and only held him there for a few seconds, as they feared he would faint through fright.

"Is the water ready?" asked Andy.

"Ready, most noble knight of the flagstaff," answered Jack.

"Then give him the cleansing bath!" was the order.

The gag must have become loosened, for when Chet felt himself being plunged into the cold water he let out a terrified yell.

"Cut it out!" ordered Andy, but Chet only yelled the more.

"We'd better vamoose," suggested Frank. "Take off the rope and run for it. You run too, Chet, or you may catch cold. Run, you beggar! Run!" and releasing the dripping figure Frank clapped Chet on the back, shoving him toward the dormitory.

"Oh, I'll pay you for this! I'll pay you!" wailed Chet.

"Never mind, keep the change," said Andy laughing. "I guess you'll know your friends after this. Come on, fellows, get rid of this tub," and they picked it up and hastened off with it.

The hazers entered their dormitory by a side door, which they had previously opened with a skeleton key in anticipation of haste, but Chet ran for the front entrance. His yells had aroused Professor Callum, who, ever on the alert, had arisen to see what the disturbance was. He opened the front portal and discovered the shivering figure there.

"Well, this is disgraceful!" the instructor exclaimed, as he recognized the newcomer. "In school one afternoon and yet you go out after hours."

"It was a—a—ha—hazing!" stammered Chet.

"Ha! So much the worse! So you have been taking part in a hazing, have you?" asked Mr. Callum. "You will be punished for that. To your room at once!" and nothing Chet could say would appease the wrath, or make his position understood.

---

ON THE GRIDIRON

There was an investigation the next day, and Chet was allowed to tell his side of the affair.

"Hazing!" exclaimed Professor Callum, who, as head assistant, heard all cases with Dr. Doolittle. "Such a thing has not occurred in Riverview before in many years."

Dr. Doolittle murmured something that sounded like "It might have been a good thing if we had had more of it," but of course that might not have been what he said.

"Are you willing to tell all about it, and disclose the names of those who took part in the disgraceful affair?" asked Mr. Callum of Chet, who was closeted with the instructor and the master. "If you do we may be easier on you."

"I'll tell everything," said the dude.

Thereupon he related how he had been summoned to join the Society of Blue Bloods.

"Ha!" exclaimed Mr. Callum. "Then it would appear that you are not as innocent as you would have us think. You were ready to violate the school rules by going out after hours to join a secret society. That was very reprehensible—very. You must be punished for that. I shall have you do two hundred lines of Latin prose for me. Now you may tell us who those were who hazed you. Is not that proper, Dr. Doolittle?"

"Hum—er—yes, I suppose so," murmured the doctor doubtfully.

Chet said nothing.

"Well?" exclaimed Mr. Callum. "We are waiting. Who were the disgraceful students who hazed you—ran you up to the top of the flagpole, as you say, and dropped you into a tub of water? Who were they?"

"I'm not going to tell!" suddenly exclaimed the new student.

"You are not going to tell?" cried Mr. Callum, amazed.

"No. If you're going to make me do a lot of that Latin stuff, after I've been hazed, I'm not going to squeal on those fellows. I won't tell!"

Mr. Callum was dumbfounded. He gazed at Dr. Doolittle.

"Ah—er—um—quite right," said the doctor. "I don't blame you for not telling, Sedley. You may go."

"But—but, my dear Dr. Doolittle!" exclaimed Mr. Callum. "We must maintain discipline!"

"But there must be no tale-bearers in Riverview!" said the doctor sharply. "You may go, Sedley."

And Chet went with a queer feeling. Somehow he was pleased with himself, and when the other lads heard how he had kept silent some of them said:

"Say, Andy, that fellow we hazed isn't so bad after all."

"No. Perhaps he has the makings of a decent chap in him, if he'd stop thinking so much about his clothes," answered Andy.

It is true that Chet's refusal for "peaching" was mainly due to the fact that he felt the punishment inflicted on himself to be unjust, and so he would not aid the school authorities, but in spite of that he had taken a step forward. And, while he did not become popular during his stay at Riverview, and while he did much to annoy our heroes, he was considerably improved.

Meanwhile football practice went on. Gradually the raw material was being developed into shape, and finally Professor Hardin, one of the younger members of the faculty, came out one day to watch the lads kicking the ball about. At the close of practice he called Andy and Frank Racer aside.

"If you would like me to, I will coach you boys," he said. "I used to play on the Yale team." His tone was modest.

"Are you that Hardin?" cried Frank. "Coach us? Say, it would be the best thing in the world for us! Maybe we can get up a 'varsity team after all."

"There is no doubt of it," replied Mr. Hardin. "You have some good material in the two scrub elevens."

Thus it came about that a 'varsity team was formed. It was no easy work picking the eleven and their substitutes, for there were some jealousies, but finally eleven lads were named and it was admitted that they were the pick of the school. Jack Sanderson was named as captain, Andy had the position at quarterback, which he had longed for, and Frank was right halfback.

"Now if the grounds were only in decent shape, maybe we could get a game with Waterside or Milton," said Andy one day.

"The only way to get the gridiron in shape is to do it yourselves," said Mr. Hardin. "It will be good training for you boys. I think we can find some shovels, picks and wheelbarrows. We can't do much with the grandstands except to make them safe, but that's something. What do you think about it?"

"We'll do it!" cried Frank; and then he and his brother broached the subject to their fellows. The result was that in the next week the gridiron took on a much different appearance. The weeds disappeared; the humps of dirt were leveled off, and the leaning fences straightened. New goal posts were secured, and the grandstands made tolerably secure in case of a crowd.

"Now what we want is some games with good schools!" said Jack Sanderson one day, following a hard struggle between the 'varsity and scrub.

"Well, there's only one way to get them," said Frank.

"How?"

"Challenge Waterside and Milton. I'm going to do it right away. They can't any more than laugh at us and turn us down." And in his capacity as manager Frank hurried off to write the letters.

---

LAUGHED AT

"That's the way to punt!"

"Send one out this way, Frank!"

"Here you go, Andy! Let's see you catch this."

The boys of Riverview were out on the gridiron having some warm-up practice before starting a game between the regular and scrub. It was several days after the conference when Frank had decided on issuing challenges to Waterside and Milton, and, in the meanwhile the grounds had been further improved and the grandstands put in better shape.

"We can give them a game on our grounds, if they'll play us," said Andy, as he caught a swiftly kicked punt.

"I'm afraid they'll insist on our going to theirs—if they play us," replied Captain Jack.

Frank ran down the field to get under a ball that had been sent high into the air. He could not help noticing the improvement in the gridiron. Truly, the students had worked like very beavers in getting it into shape, and tired muscles and aching joints for many a day told of the strain they had been under. Except for hiring some of the heaviest work done, the boys had managed it all themselves, under the direction of Professor Hardin.

"And I'm not going to have all this work go to waste," thought Frank. "If it's possible, we're going to play Milton and Waterside besides some other schools. We may not win, or come anywhere near it, but it will do the boys good to stack up against a real eleven instead of the scrub."

"Line up!" called Captain Jack. "We'll have a practice game, anyhow."

The scrub was a good match for the regular and several times came near scoring, which knowledge made Jack, Frank, Andy and their mates clench their teeth, dig their cleated shoes into the turf, to brace and shove to such good advantage that finally the ball was pushed over for a 'varsity touchdown.

"That's what we'll do to Waterside," exclaimed Frank, as he paused to get his breath.

"If they'll only let us," said Jack.

The game went on, becoming more fast and furious, until Coach Hardin clapped his hands in delight.

"That's real playing!" the professor exclaimed. "These boys will amount to something yet. I was afraid this school was going to remain a dead one, but if it's got such material in it as the Racer boys and their chums, it can't be so bad. But—well, maybe it will come out right," and the professor shook his head rather ruefully. He was thinking of his unpaid salary, and wondering if he would ever get it. For of late more and more disquieting rumors had come to him of the financial straits of Dr. Doolittle and the school.

"If it comes to a crash I hope it will stand off until the boys have at least one good game," he mused on, for he was a true lover of outdoor sport.

The football practice went on, the regular eleven winning by a larger score than ever. The scrub players were correspondingly crestfallen.

"Good work, Captain Jack!" complimented the coach. "The game was well played throughout. Same to you, Scrubs!" Whereat they, the "goats," as they dubbed themselves, smiled and forgot their bruises.

"Where are you going?" asked Andy of his brother, later that afternoon, as he saw Frank attiring himself with rather more than usual care. "Something on?"

"No, I'm just going to take a run in to Marsden. I've got to see Mr. Bolton about that law business and the bonds for Mrs. Morton."

"Oh ho! Gertrude going to meet you there?"

"Of course not. Come along if you like."

"I believe I will. I'm all up on my studies and the trip will do me good. I got a beaut of a poke in the back to-day, and I'd like to get some liniment for it. Going to be long?"

"No, but it won't matter if we get back after hours. Old Thorny has gone off to deliver a lecture, and there's some sort of a meeting in the doctor's office. We won't get caught."

"What's the meeting about?"

"Oh, something about funds and money, I guess. Poor old doctor is looking pretty blue these days. I'm afraid this place is getting more on the fritz."

"I'm afraid so too, and it's a shame after the way you worked to get things going."

"Oh, you did your share. But it can't be helped. However, I'm not going to cross a bridge until I hear the rustlings of its wings. I wish we'd hear from Waterside or Milton, though. They're taking their time about answering those challenges."

"Maybe they got heart disease at the nerve of Riverview asking for a game."

"Well, they needn't. We've got as good a team as either one, even if our grounds aren't good. But come on," and Frank, having succeeded in tying his scarf to his taste, made ready to start.

The business with Lawyer Bolton was soon concluded. He said that several unexpected difficulties had been met with in the sale of the bonds because of lawsuits against the company issuing them.

"But what need that matter?" asked Frank. "Mrs. Morton needs the money. Now, why can't I advance it to her? I will! I don't much care whether the bonds are good anyhow."

"Ah, yes, that's easy enough to say," declared the lawyer, "but the court has issued an injunction against the disposal of the bonds in any way until this trouble is settled. The bonds are the only security for the debt, so unless you want to give Mrs. Morton the money outright nothing can be done until the matter is settled. I don't believe your father would like you to use your money in that way without some security."

"Oh, I don't believe he'd care!" exclaimed Frank. "Give her the money and have done with it."

"Ah, yes, but she won't take it;" said Mr. Bolton. "I sounded her on that when I found that the bonds were likely to be tied up, and she refused to consider it. She is very independent, and she won't accept money unless she gives what she believes to be good security. So you see you'll have to wait."

"And in the meanwhile Professor Thorndyke Callum may act and secure the Morton home," said Frank dubiously.

"Yes, he may," admitted Mr. Bolton. "But I'll do my best to prevent that. In the meanwhile if anything occurs I'll let you know." And with that the boys had to be content.

It was early when they left the lawyer's office and, as they did not want to return to school, they went into a moving picture show.

"Look over there!" exclaimed Frank to his brother, during one of the vaudeville acts, when the house was lighted. "Isn't that Captain Loring, of the Waterside eleven?"

"That's who it is," assented Andy after a glance at the youth whom Frank indicated. "Why?"

"Oh, nothing."

But when the show was over the elder Racer lad hastened through the crowd and touched a youth on the shoulder.

"May I speak to you a moment, Loring?" he asked.

"Oh, it's you, is it, Racer?" answered the other. They had met at the boat race, and once or twice since.

"Yes. Say, aren't you fellows going to answer our football challenge?"

"Answer it? Why, I thought our manager did answer it. I'm almost sure he did."

"We haven't received it. But are you going to give us a game?"

"What? Give you a game? Come, that's pretty rich. Say, Racer, look here. I don't want to seem mean, but really we can't play you fellows, you know. Ha! Ha! Why, it would be a joke!" And he laughed heartily.

"Oh, a joke; eh?" and Frank's face was stern.

"Now, it isn't my fault," went on Loring, seeing that the matter was serious. "The fellows voted not to play you, that's all. Ha! Ha! You really haven't a good team, you know."

"If you'd play us you'd find out," said Andy, ready to take up the battle with his brother.

"Oh, we can't do that. We'd be laughed at," and once more Loring seemed about to give way to mirth.

"All right," assented Frank, for a curious crowd was beginning to gather. "Some day you may be glad to play Riverview."

"Not in a blue moon!" laughed Loring as he turned away.

---

BUCKING THE LINE

Frank did not say much on the way home, and neither did Andy. But they were doing a lot of thinking and their thoughts were not pleasant. The rebuff just administered had been more humiliating than the letter in regard to the rowing.

"He needn't have laughed," said Frank in a low voice, as they neared the school.

"No, that was adding insult to injury," agreed Andy. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know, exactly. Let's wait and see what the word is from Milton. They may be more decent."

They did not have long to wait for an answer from the other boarding school farther up the river. There were two letters in Frank's room when he and Andy successfully eluded the monitor and reached their apartment.

"Here's the answer from Waterside," announced Frank, holding up an envelope bearing the imprint of that school. "And this is from Milton Academy," he added, as he looked at the other. His hand shook a little as he opened it, and his face, that had been gloomy when he began to read, was more so as he finished.

"Well?" asked Andy.

"Nothing doing," answered Frank briefly. "They say we are not in their class. I'm going to bed."

The news was all over the school the next morning, and it created more of a stir than had the first refusal of Waterside to row, for there were more boys interested in football than in the race on the river.

"It's a shame!" exclaimed Captain Jack vindictively. "I'd like a chance to tell 'em so, too."

"Better not get into a row with them as we did before," advised Frank.

There were gloomy days that followed at Riverview. For a time the gridiron was all but neglected, and only a few reported for practice. Then Professor Hardin talked to the lads and for very shame's sake they went back to work, the 'varsity hammering the scrub all over the field.

The energetic coach did even better. He arranged for a game with a semi-professional team that had the name of playing hard and fast football. In a way they were more than a match for Riverview and Mr. Hardin wanted to see how his lads would take a beating.

The first part of the game was all in favor of the Lafayettes, as the other team was called. They made a number of good plays, and seemed to go through the line at will. But the coach noticed that his boys braced at the last moment, and in needed spots, so that after the first two periods there were only two touchdowns and a goal against them.

"See if we can't wallop 'em!" exclaimed Frank, tenderly feeling of his nose in the rest period.

"We're going to!" fiercely cried Andy, as he shifted his shin guards. "We're going to plow right through 'em!"

And Riverview did, to the no small surprise of the Lafayette team. The schoolboys shoved their opponents all over. They went through the line and around ends. They gained on fake kicks and on the forward pass, and they had the wing shift down to perfection.

"If they don't win they're putting up the prettiest game I've seen in a long while," said the enthusiastic coach.

"It's the first time in a good many years that Riverview has had a chance to show what she can do," said another instructor. "Oh, I hope we do win!"

And win they did! Perhaps it was from thinking of all the hard work they had put in on their gridiron that made the lads resolve not to have it go for naught. Inch by inch they fought their opponents back. Time and again they bucked the line until they had rolled up three touchdowns and kicked the goal for each one. Then, when time was called, though they were a sore and suffering lot of lads, they gathered in the center of the field and cheered their vanquished rivals to the echo. And they were cheered in turn.

"No wonder Waterside doesn't want to play you," said the captain of the Lafayettes. "They're afraid of getting trimmed. Say, you didn't do a thing to us!"

"We'd like a chance to do the same to them," remarked Frank, feeling of his left eye to see if it was going to close.

"Well, we'll give you a recommendation," spoke the other captain, with a rueful laugh.

There was an increase of the number of candidates out to practice on the gridiron the next Monday afternoon. Chet Sedley was among them, and to the surprise of Frank and Andy, the dude did actually get into the game on the scrub.

"I'll show you fellows that I can play, even if I do dress well!" he announced. Certainly he was not dressed well now, for he had on an old suit someone had loaned him. But Chet was not destined for a football player. At the first scrimmage he fell with about eight lads on top of him, and his mouth and nose were down in the soft dirt.

"Get up off me! Ouch! This is no way to play! It ain't fair to sit on a fellow's head that way!"

Thus yelled Chet, while his mates laughed at him. But I will do him the justice to say that his hazing had done him good, and he was not nearly so unpopular as he at first threatened to become. But football was not his forte, and after a few more trials he gave it up.

"But I'll make the baseball nine in the spring," he declared, as he retired to the side lines. "That isn't so rough."

For the sake of getting a line on the play of their rivals the Riverview eleven went to see the annual contest between Milton and Waterside, played on the former's grounds. It was a good game, and well contested, and for a time seemed to be in favor of Waterside.

Then came several costly fumbles, of which Milton took quick advantage, and when the final whistle blew the score was twenty-two to ten in favor of Milton. Waterside had been badly beaten.

"Say, that's a surprise," commented Andy, as he and his brother left the grounds.

"A good surprise for us, I think," said Frank.

"Why?"

"Because maybe Waterside will take us on now. They know how we trimmed Lafayette and now that they have been trimmed in turn by Milton, they may not be so high and mighty. I'm going to send another challenge."

Some thought it was foolish and a waste of time, but Frank persisted. He got an answer more quickly than before, and it showed the correctness of his reasoning.

"Whoop! Hurray!" yelled Frank, rushing from one member of the team to another with the letter. "Now we'll have to do some tall practicing."

And next day the line-bucking of the regulars was so fierce that several of the scrubs were knocked out. There was a grim smile on the faces of the Racer boys and the coach.

"I think they'll play a great game—a great game," whispered Mr. Hardin as he watched them at practice.

---

THE LAST TOUCHDOWN

"Line up! Line up!"

"Come on now, fellows, and don't forget that wing shift signal."

"Pass the ball over here."

"Say, Cap, give me a chance at some end runs."

"Work me through center all you want. I think there's a weak spot in their line."

"Come on, now, everybody line up!"

It was the Riverview football team at warm-up practice on the grounds of their rivals, just prior to the big game. I say big game, for the Racer boys and their chums so regarded it from their standpoint, though, it must be confessed that Waterside expected to win easily, and only gave their opponents a game in order to prove how badly they could beat them.

But Frank and his chums were full of confidence. They knew they could play well, and they were in the pink of condition. Of course there might be a slump, and a fumble is likely to occur in any game, to make or break it.

On the other side of the fine big gridiron the Waterside lads were at practice.

"They're beefy," said Captain Jack, a bit dubiously.

"They are a bit heavier than we are," admitted Andy, "but we have more speed. Look how slowly they worked that forward pass."

"They may be doing it for a bluff," said Duke Yardly.

"There's no bluff about this gridiron and their grandstands," declared Donald Burgess. "This sure is a peach school."

Nearly every lad contrasted it with Riverview, to the disadvantage of the latter institution.

"Never mind," spoke Frank. "Win this game and we may have a better football field—some day."

Jack Sanderson won the toss and selected the north goal, as that gave him the advantage of a stiff little wind, and he realized that if his team could score first it would put heart into the lads—heart that would more than make up for the extra weight of the Waterside eleven.

Ping! The new yellow ball sailed high into the air, and went rolling well into Riverview's territory. Frank caught it and went back on the run, well protected by interference. But with a rush Waterside was bearing down on him in a bunch, while from thousands of throats came hoarse yells.

"Go on, old man! Go on!" someone implored Frank.

He did try to go on, but now there was a miniature mountain of flesh upon him.

"Down!" he gasped, and then they lined up for the first scrimmage.

It was hot, fierce and fast work. After a couple of tries at the line, Captain Jack saw that it was going to be heavy work, so he began the kicking tactics that had been agreed upon. Here the wind favored Riverview very much, and though Waterside sent the ball back time and again, the net result at the end of five minutes' play was decidedly with our heroes.

"Now we've got to rush it over for a touchdown!" said Frank, as they lined up two yards from the Waterside goal line. It was a desperate try, but it was successful, and Andy was shoved over the necessary distance.

"Touchdown! Touchdown!" yelled the frantic and enthusiastic supporters of Riverview. "Now get another!"

The goal was kicked, and then began the fierce playing again. It was more than a mere game. Riverview was actually fighting for life—or at least recognition among her fellows. With grim despair her boys hugged the ball when they had it, and dashed into the line like young battering rams. And when it came their turn to stop a rush they did it with such fierceness that several of the Waterside players were put out temporarily.

In good stead did the grueling practice our heroes had had on their rough gridiron stand them now. Of course the game went against them at times, and once, just before the end of the second quarter, it looked as if Waterside would get another touchdown in addition to the one she had already made, which would have put her well ahead. But Frank saved the day by a brilliant tackle almost on the goal line and the welcome whistle blew. So far the score was a tie.

There was no let up in the fierce playing when the third period started. Frank, Andy, Jack and Ward were "playing their heads off," as the coach said. But it was needed.

For Waterside was smarting at the manner in which her players were being hurled back.

"We've just got to win!" said Frank fiercely.

In the third period neither side scored, though Riverview came close to it, and would have done so but for a most unfair decision. There was a howl of protest, but Captain Jack silenced it among his lads.

"We'll win anyhow," he said calmly.

The time was almost up. There had been an exchange of kicks, some fierce line-bucking, and several trick plays tried. Waterside had been forced back until once more the line-up was not far from the fatal white line on which the two posts stood.

"Over she goes now, boys!" called Andy, who was at quarter. This was the prearranged signal for a sequence of plays—that is, several, one after the other, without further instructions being given.

Donald Burgess hurled himself at the line, hoping to get through, but he only made a yard. Then came the turn of Duke Yardly, and he was able only to tear off about four feet.

"Now, Frank, it's up to you!" whispered his brother desperately. Frank set his teeth grimly, and when the pigskin came back to him he threw himself into an opening that was torn for him between tackle and guard on the left. Forward he went, worming his way. He felt hands clutching at him, he felt feet kicking him. His head swam, his eyes saw black. His breath seemed leaving him, and there was a tremendous pressure on his chest, but he got through, and when he found himself flat on his face, with the ball under him, he looked to see that he was beyond the chalk mark. Riverview had made the last touchdown and won the game!

Oh, what a pandemonium broke loose then! How the little contingent of Riverview boys, as compared with the big crowd of their rivals, yelled and shouted.

After the first stupefying knowledge that they had been beaten, and by a despised rival, Waterside remembered her manners and cheered her opponents. And the gridiron was quickly covered with a mass of spectators who insisted on carrying on their shoulders the lads who had won.

"Oh, cut it out!" implored Frank and the others, but it was not to be.

"It was great! Glorious! Fine! Oh, I can't find words enough for it!" cried Gertrude Morton a little later, as she insisted on shaking hands with Frank, even though his palms were covered with mud and grass stains.

"Oh, I'm so glad you've won!" cried Grace Knox, as she approached the blushing Andy.

"You're coming right along! You'll be the champions of the Interscholastic League," said one admirer of our heroes.

"We're not in the League, but we may be if we can beat Milton," spoke Frank grimly. "We want their scalps next."

"Are you going to challenge them again?" asked Andy.

"Sure. It's the only thing to do. Why, the championship is between us now, and I guess Milton won't back down."

And she did not. A few days after the memorable victory of Riverview, Frank's second challenge to Milton Academy was accepted.

"Our grounds!" exclaimed Frank. "Well, they're pretty punk, compared to theirs, but they'll have to do. And we can play better at home."

"What if we should win?" cried Andy, capering about.

"Did you say if?" asked Frank. "Of course we're going to win. Now come on, we've got to do something more to those grandstands, and I'd like to see the gridiron in a little better shape."

Between times at practice the lads worked on the grounds until they were in fairly good condition. There was an early indication that a goodly crowd would be present, as the championship of the football season practically lay between Riverview and Milton.

It was the day before the big game—the game on which our heroes counted more than on the previous one. The members of the eleven were just returning from practice when a notice on one of the bulletin boards caught Frank's eye.

"What's this?" he asked, stopping to read it. The others crowded around him.

Dr. Doolittle's name was signed to the notice, and the boys could not but help observing that the characters were very shaky, as if the good doctor's hand had trembled very much.

"Riverview Hall going to close!" gasped Andy.

"And just when we've got her in good running shape!" cried Frank. "This sure is tough luck!"

---

A NEW SCHOOL—CONCLUSION

The disquieting news was only too true, as the boys soon learned. Little else was being talked of in the dormitories and classrooms when the football squad entered. Professor Callum was seen going in and out of the doctor's study, his crabbed and wrinkled face twisted into a heavy scowl. Other instructors looked worried, for their salaries were long overdue.

A long series of misfortunes to a man never very well qualified for financial matters, with debts accumulating, few wealthy patrons, no endowment worth mentioning, with the buildings in need of repair, and with a new heating plant vitally needed, as winter was coming on, it is no wonder that Dr. Doolittle had to close the school.

"He has thrown up the sponge and taken the count," said Duke Yardly, who was addicted to sporting terms. "Poor old Doc! Well, I suppose this knocks our football game in the head."

"Not at all!" exclaimed Frank quickly. "We'll play it. Riverview doesn't close until to-morrow. To-morrow lasts until midnight The game will be over by six, consequently we are a recognized school until after the game, and when we beat Milton Academy, as we're going to, we'll be the champions of the Interscholastic League—for about a minute!" and he laughed mirthlessly.

"Sure we'll play!" declared Andy, and gradually the feeling of despondency wore off in a measure, for the boys were all healthy lads and sport appealed to them.

"But we won't give up until the last whistle!" said the elder Racer lad.

"No, indeed!" agreed his brother. "And, win or lose, we'll have some fun to-morrow night. We'll play no end of jokes——"

"Say, you'd joke if Rome was burning, wouldn't you?" asked Frank.

"Don't know. Never had a chance to try," answered Andy, with a grin.

As it was Saturday there were no lectures, but the usual morning devotional exercises were held in chapel. The doctor read a selection from one of the grand old psalms, and if his voice faltered at times, and if his eyes were dim, who shall say that in the crowd of boys who listened to him, thoughtless as they might be at times, there were not some who also felt a mist of tears obscure their vision.

"I presume you have all heard the news," said Dr. Doolittle, as the final hymn was sung, "I have nothing to add to the notice I posted. I bid you all good-by," and he turned aside, while Professor Hardin placed his arm about the venerable figure and led the head of the school from the platform.

There was, necessarily, a period of sadness when the boys filed out of chapel, but it soon passed away. Their young minds were tuned to pleasure, and as there was yet much to be done to get the gridiron and stands in readiness for the day's game they busied themselves about it.

"The last day at old Riverview!" exclaimed Andy, looking about as he and Frank stood on the field. "Well, we've had some good times here."

"We sure have," agreed his brother, "and we're going to have a hot one pretty soon. Those Milton fellows will be here in a little while."

---

Some hours later there was a sound of cheering, a blowing of horns and ringing of bells. Shouts, snatches of songs, school yells, and mere whoops of joy. The Milton football team and their supporters were arriving. Riverview greeted them no less enthusiastically. Out on the gridiron swarmed the lads in their ungainly suits.

I am not going to try to describe that last game to you in detail. Ask any old Riverview student, or, for that matter, any old Milton graduate to tell you about it, and he can do it much better than can I. Sufficient to say that it began with a rush and ended with a rush, and there were rush plays every minute of it.

Never, so said old football men, had such a fierce contest been seen except among college teams. It was as if Riverview was playing for life and Milton for reputation.

"If we die, then we die fighting gloriously!" quoted Frank, at the middle period when neither side had scored. "They are sure tough, but we're tougher! We're going to win and lay it as a last tribute on old Riverview's grave."

"Of course we'll win!" cried Andy.

Up to the ending of the third period the goal line of neither side had been crossed, though the ball had been perilously close a number of times. There were cheers, songs and wild yells from the grandstands, which swayed dangerously under the stamping feet.

At last Riverview got the very chance she needed. Milton had the ball, and her player was coming through center with it. But Frank made a magnificent leap and broke through the interference. There was a fierce tackle, a fumble and our hero had the pigskin. Then, like a flash, he had tucked it under his arm and was off down the field.

"Wow! Wow! Good work. Pretty! Get a touchdown!" was yelled after him.

"And a touchdown it's going to be!" whispered Frank desperately to himself.

How he did it he hardly knew himself, afterward. There was one man between him and the goal, and when Frank broke away from a fierce tackle that man lay prone upon the ground motionless. And Frank was over the line, sitting on the ball, while the whistle blew, ending the game. Riverview had won!

"Good! Good! That's the stuff! Well played! A plucky run! Riverview forever! A new day for her! Wow! Who was that lad?"

So cried a well-dressed man who was leaping about in the grandstand after Frank's sensational run. This man had been watching the game with critical eyes. He had also been letting his gaze rove about the grounds, and down toward the repaired boathouse that had been treated to a coat of paint, for which our heroes paid.

"Who was he? Is he a regular student here?" demanded the man, ceasing his frantic yelling for a moment and resting his cane, with which he had been pounding holes in the floor of the rotten grandstand. "Who is he?"

"Frank Racer," someone told him.

"Oh, one of the Racer boys. I've heard about them. I know their father. But say, this was a peach of a game!—I—I—is Dr. Doolittle here?" and the well-dressed stranger looked about. He seemed laboring under some repressed excitement.

Someone told him of the impending closing of the school, and how Dr. Doolittle was in retirement.

"This school going to close? I guess not!" cried the man. "Not if I know it. Here, let me pass, please. I want to see Dr. Doolittle. Any boys that can play football the way these lads have played to-day aren't going to be turned out of a school. Why, I used to attend here, years ago, but I never could play football like that. Wow! What a run! What a run!"

The man was pushing his way through a wondering and enthusiastic crowd. Out on the gridiron the Riverview team was capering about in delight. They had cheered their gloomy rivals and been cheered in turn. The field was being overflowed by a mass of people.

"You fellows are sure wonders!" cried the captain of the Miltons. "We came for your scalps, but you got ours. How did you do it?"

"We just had to," said Frank simply.

A messenger boy thrust his way through the crowd.

"Frank Racer!" he called.

"Here I am," answered our hero.

He tore open the envelope that was handed to him, and his face went red.

"Hang that Thorny!" he exclaimed. "I've got to go to see Gertrude and her mother," he explained in a low voice to his brother. "Professor Callum is putting on the screws again. He's got out another attachment. I guess this business here, when he fears he'll lose his back salary, made him do it. I'm going to see Mr. Bolton right away. You pack up the things."

"What things?"

"Why, our clothes and stuff. We're going home. Riverview is up the spout."

"That's so. My, isn't it tough! And just when we won the best game of the season!" cried Andy.

But Frank did not hear him. He was hurrying over the field on his way to the dressing-room, unheeding the calls of his comrades to stay and join in a final celebration.

"This is the end," Frank was saying to Lawyer Bolton a little later. "I want this business settled and Mr. Callum prevented from annoying Mrs. Morton."

"And I was just going to send you word that it would be," said the lawyer. "The bonds have just been sold at a handsome profit. The court proceedings are over and the widow and her daughter are in good circumstances. Professor Callum's money is ready for him, and the attachment will be vacated at once. Here is the court order. I've been attending to the case all day."

"And we've been playing football—we won," explained Frank briefly.

"Then maybe you'd like to take these papers to Mrs. Morton," suggested the lawyer. "I will send her a check next week."

Frank lost no time in going to the house of the widow. At first she could not believe the good news, but when he showed her the court order vacating the attachment she wept. This time no one had been put in possession, so it was not necessary to get rid of an unwelcome visitor.

"And so you won the game," Gertrude said to Frank a little later. "I wanted to come, but—well, I couldn't leave mother."

"I understand," he said, as he shook hands at parting. "Now I've got to go back to school and help Andy pack up."

"You—you aren't going?" she faltered.

"Got to. School's broken up," he said. "But I'm going to Waterside—Andy and I—if we can persuade dad to send us. So I—I'll see you again."

"Oh," said she, and she smiled, and seemed pleased.

When Frank got back to school he found a crowd of joyous and yelling students out on the campus. A big fire had been built, and the crowd was marching about it singing.

"Humph! They don't seem to be taking it very seriously," he mused. "I thought they'd feel rather broken up about the old school closing." There was a mist of tears in his own eyes, for, though he had not been there long, he had formed a liking for the place, and for Dr. Doolittle.

"Hey, what's up, Andy?" he called a moment later to his brother. "Are they celebrating the football victory? Have you got our traps packed up?"

"No, to both questions!" fairly roared Andy. "We're not celebrating the football victory, because we're celebrating something else, and I haven't got our things packed up because we're not going home."

"Why not—isn't Riverview Hall closed?"

"Not much. Say, it's great news. Mr. Lairman, that millionaire who once refused to invest in Riverview, changed his mind after he saw how we could play football to-day. He was in the grandstand. That was he yelling so after you made that dandy run. He saw we had a good team, he saw how we'd fixed up the gridiron and the boathouse, and he's going to make a new school of this. He's bought a half interest and he's paid Dr. Doolittle about a million in cash, I guess. Wow! But it's great news! There's going to be practically a new school at Riverview—a gym, a football field that's going to beat the old one all to pieces, a new diamond, lots of shells, a new boathouse, new buildings—say—pinch me so I'll know I'm not asleep."

"Is this true?" asked Frank of several of his chums.

"Sure thing!" Jack assured him. "That millionaire was an old graduate and he's made good. Now he's going to make a new school of this. He just told us in a little speech. He's all right. Dr. Doolittle's troubles are over and I guess he's glad of it. Now he can translate Chinese, Assyrian and Chocktaw until the cows come home, and he won't have to worry."

"Come on! Join the festive throng!" cried Andy, seizing his brother by the hand. "This is the day we celebrate! How did you make out with Old Thorny?"

"Oh, he's down and out. Mrs. Morton has her money and everything is lovely."

"Good," broke in Andy, "and there's more news. Thorny is going to leave. He and Dr. Doolittle and the millionaire had a row and Old Thorny quit. Wow! but I'm glad. We're going to stay here now and be the champion baseball players next spring. Come on. Let joy be unconfined. Mrs. Stone had a bang-up supper ready for us. Wow!"

And a little later formal announcement was made of the rejuvenation of Riverview Hall at an impromptu supper which the matron prepared for the lads. And such a supper as it was! They talk about it yet in the new school.

"Well, now we can settle down to study after we've made ourselves champions," said Frank, as he got up from the table.

"Yes, I wonder what will happen next?" asked Andy.

What did, and how the Racer boys conducted themselves in another succession of surprising happenings will be told in the next volume of this series, to be called "Frank and Andy in a Winter Camp; or, The Young Hunters' Strange Discovery."

And so, as the lads are making merry over the supper, and rejoicing in the great victory, and in the prospects of a new school to take the place of the old one—in which work none had such a prominent part as the Racer boys—we will take leave of them and their chums.

THE END