Mohunk. The following day the wagon
belonging to Judge Colon, an uncle of the tall boy, and put at the
service of the young campers, would come to "tote" all the stuff back
to town again, and some of the boys in the bargain.

Of course nine of them would go back, as they had come, in the boat.
And this time there was no need of any secrecy, so they could expect to
excite more or less curiosity when they shot past Mechanicsburg.

The mere thought inspired the boys with eagerness. In imagination they
could already see the wondering faces lining the bank, and the people
running to see as the word was passed hurriedly along that the new
eight-oared shell of the Riverport crew was sighted up the river.

They had become very careful now about the boat, which was growing more
valuable in their eyes every hour, as they developed its capabilities.
Catch any of them throwing torches around promiscuously now; no one
ever touched the fire so that the sparks flew, but half a dozen pairs
of anxious eyes followed the course they took, and speculation arose as
to the chances of their doing any damage.

During the morning another trial spin was taken, with Colon again in
his place, and pulling a strong oar. Brad and Fred both declared that
the crew was coming on famously, and would be able to give a good
account of themselves when the time arrived to meet their old rivals of
Mechanicsburg.

Along about three in the afternoon the wagon arrived. As the tents had
been taken down, and all the camp things well packed, it took but a
short time to load up. Then the wagon started, escorted by the eight
fellows who could not find places in the boat.

The crew gave them a cheer for a send-off, and received as loud a
salute in return. After which they took their places in the long,
narrow boat, for the run of seven miles down the river home.

Brad was keenly alive to every little thing that took place. Like a
wise coxswain he felt that he ought to know each man's weakness, if he
had any, so as to build him up into a perfect part of the whole
machine. For a boat crew must act as though it were one unit, at the
nod and whim of the fellow who sits in the stern, doing the steering,
and by his motions increasing or diminishing the stroke. If one cog
fails to work perfectly, the entire thing collapses.

"Fine! Great work, fellows!" Brad was saying again and again after they
had passed over a couple of miles down-stream. "You're doing yourselves