The Racer Boys; Or, The Mystery of the Wreck
The Racer Boys; Or, The Mystery of the Wreck
By Clarence Young
3 Apr, 2020
“How about a race to the dock, Frank?”
“With whom, Andy?”
“Me, of course. I’ll beat you there—loser to stand treat for the ice cream sodas. It’s a hot day.”
“Yes, almost too warm to do any speeding,” and Frank Racer, a lad of
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“How about a race to the dock, Frank?”
“With whom, Andy?”
“Me, of course. I’ll beat you there—loser to stand treat for the ice cream sodas. It’s a hot day.”
“Yes, almost too warm to do any speeding,” and Frank Racer, a lad of fifteen, with a quiet look of determination on his face, rested on the oars of his skiff, and glanced across the slowly-heaving salt waves toward his brother Andy, a year younger.
“Oh, come on!” called Andy, with a laugh rippling over his tanned face. “You’re afraid I’ll beat you.”
“I am, eh?” and there was a grim tightening of the older lad’s lips. “Well, if you put it that way, here goes! Are you ready?”
“Just a minute,” 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. Less