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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, yes!" answered Frank, half sarcastically. "But why don't you stop
talking? You can't t