"Beat her! Beat her!" retorted John. "Why you would think the
Black Growler was standing still the Varmint can pull away from
her so fast."
"I don't believe that," said Fred, shaking his head.
"Well, you will have to, for they are going to the same place we
are. They have entered her in the motor-boat races and as she
belongs to the same class that your tub does you will have a fine
chance to see her win the cup. That's about the only chance
you'll have too, in my opinion." John winked at George and Grant,
who immediately in doleful tones expressed their sympathy for
Fred.
"It's too bad," declared George, "after a fellow's father has
given him a boat such as the Black Growler to find out that it
doesn't stand any show in the race. Now if you had found that out
before you had bought the boat, Fred, just think how much money,
time, labor, trouble, perplexity, sleeplessness, loss of
appetite--"
"Never that," broke in Grant, shaking his head. "All the other
things, yes, but loss of appetite, never. Just look at him!"
John insisted upon relating his experiences and increased the
interest of his friends in spite of their efforts to appear
indifferent when he said there were three young people on board
the Varmint, who were expecting to spend the summer on an island
near Fred's grandfather's and were also confident that the boat
race was to be the supreme event of the summer.
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