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38
THE EIGHT-OARED VICTORS

a hurry?" asked Tom, in a low voice, when they were some distance out. "You were on your highhorse for fair, Frank."

"And why shouldn't I be? Do you think I was going to stay there, and help him hunt, after he practically insulted us the way he did? As if we knew anything about his musty old jewelry!"

"That's right!" broke in Phil. "I wouldn't lift my hand to help him, after he made that implied accusation. We didn't see any of his stuff!"

"Oh, so that's the reason," replied Tom. "Well, I guess it was a good one, Frank."

"Those Boxer Hall lads will be up in the air all right when they learn that their trophies are gone," suggested Sid. "I wonder if there were any of the ones they won in the last meet?"

"They didn't get many," chuckled Frank. "But it will be quite a loss to them. However, it's none of our funeral. I wouldn't trust any of my jewelry to a man who would go off and leave it in a motorboat for a night and a day."

"Oh, well, he didn't mean to. When he got that message about his mother, I suppose it flustered him," said Tom, in extenuation.

"It's hard to blame him," commented Frank. "But he's in a pickle all right. Now let's do some fast rowing."

They hit up the pace, but they did not have enough practice to maintain it, especially in the