At once a loud murmur arose. Some sided with Jerry, while others took Si Peters’ part.

From hot words the boys of the rival towns almost came to blows.

In the midst of the quarrel a row-boat came down the lake carrying two elderly and well-known gentlemen, both residents of Rockpoint. Curious to know the cause of the trouble, the gentlemen came up to the judges’ craft, now moored along shore.

“Peters claims a foul up at the turning point,” said some one of the gentlemen.

“You mean up at the island?”

“Yes.”

“There was no foul there. Was there, Greenley?”

“None at all,” replied the second gentleman.

These assertions attracted attention. On inquiry it was learned that the two gentlemen had been up at the island fishing. They had watched the race in the meanwhile, and they were willing to make affidavit that Jerry had not interfered in the slightest degree with Si Peters.

“He took the outside, and he really gave Peters more room than was necessary.”

The two gentlemen were too well known to be doubted in what they said, and at once the judges refused to accept Si Peters’ plea.

“The race goes to Jerry Upton, who won it fairly.”

Then how Jerry’s friends did yell with delight! The lad was pounced upon and raised up on his friends’ shoulders, and away went the boat club boys around the town, Blumpo in advance of them blowing a big fish-horn.

“You is de boy!” said the homeless youth. “You is de best oarsman on de lake!”

Harry was in the crowd, and when he told how he had outwitted Wash Crosby every one roared.

The race, however, made lots of ill-feeling. The Rockpoint boys could not stand defeat, and that evening half a dozen rows started in as many different places.

Sticks and stones were freely used, and many boys went home with their arms and heads tied up.

Jerry became involved in one of the worst of the fights in rather a peculiar manner. He was on his way home rather late, thinking all was over and that the Rockpointers had departed, when he heard a hoarse cry for help from down a side street.

He recognized the voice as that of Blumpo Brown, and at once hurried to the spot, there to find the youth at the mercy of four of the Rockpoint boys, including Wash Crosby, Si Peters, and two others named Banner and Graves. The quartet had poor Blumpo down on his back and were kicking him as hard as they could.

“You cowards!” shouted Jerry as he rushed up, “to kick a fellow when he’s down!”

“This is none of your affair,” shouted Si Peters. “He insulted us, and we won’t take an insult from anybody, much less an Indian coon.”

“Da jess pitched inter me!” howled Blumpo. “Sabe me!”

“Let up, I say!” went on Jerry, and, clutching Si Peters by the shoulder, he flung the big Rockpointer flat on his back several feet away. Then Jerry pitched into the others of the crowd.

This gave Blumpo a chance to rise. He scrambled up and let out a long and loud yell for help. Luckily, some other boys were not far away. They heard the cry and arrived on a run.

“We must skip now!” cried Wash Crosby to Si Peters. “We’ll have the whole town on us in another minute.”

“Hang the luck!” howled Peters. “But just wait, Jerry Upton, I’ll get square with you yet.”

He turned away with his friends, and the quartet scooted for the lake, with Jerry, Blumpo, and half a dozen others at their heels.

Wash Crosby’s launch was tied up at a dock, and into this they tumbled. The line was cut, and off they steamed, amid a perfect shower of stones, lumps of dirt, old bottles, and anything that came handy to the Lakeview boys’ reach.

“There, I fancy that’s the end of them,” said Jerry. “I thought they had gone long ago.”

“Da laid for me!” groaned Blumpo. “Wish I dun had a hoss pistol, I would shoot ’em all full of holes!”

Soon the steam launch faded away in the darkness, and a little later found Jerry again on his way home. Of course his folks were proud to think he had won the race.

“My boy, Jerry!” was all Mrs. Upton said, but the way she said it meant a good deal.

It was a week later that the boat club gave a reception, at which Jerry was the lion. He was presented with the silver trophy, and made a neat little speech. There were refreshments and music, and altogether the affair was the most brilliant Lakeview had seen for some time.

Matters moved along slowly for a week after the racing and the reception were over. Jerry worked on the farm, and never was there a more industrious youth.

In the meanwhile Harry Parker made several arrangements for the outing up the lake, in which Jerry and Blumpo were to accompany him.

One day Mr. Upton received a letter from Rockpoint. It was from a friend, and asked if the farmer could send him over at once a load of hay.

“I can’t go very well,” said Mr. Upton. “Supposing you take it over to Mr. Dike, Jerry?”

“I will, sir,” replied Jerry, promptly.

The young oarsman had not been over to Rockpoint since the races, but he thought he could go over and come back without encountering trouble.

The hay was soon loaded on the rick, and then Jerry started off for the other shore. He was compelled to drive nearly to the lower end of the lake to cross on the bridge, consequently it was well on toward the middle of the afternoon when Rockpoint was reached.

He and Mr. Dike put the load in the barn, and after being paid, and partaking of a glass of cold milk and a piece of home-made pie, Jerry, at just six o’clock, started on the return.

It had been a gloomy day, and, consequently, it was already growing dark, although it was midsummer.

But Jerry knew the way well, so he did not mind the darkness. He let the team go their own gait, and took it easy in the rick on a couple of horse blankets.

He was in a sort of day dream, when suddenly, his team was stopped by a couple of boys, who sprang from behind a clump of trees.

The boys wore masks over their faces, and when they spoke, they did their best to disguise their voices.

Jerry sprang up in alarm. At the same time four more boys, also masked, surrounded the hay-rick.

“What’s the meaning of this?” demanded Jerry. “Let go of those horses.”

Instead of replying, the two boys continued to hold the team. The other four leaped into the hay-rick and fell on Jerry. Taken so suddenly, he was at a disadvantage. Hardly could he make a move before one of the boys struck him on the head with a club, dazing him.

Then a rope was brought forth, and Jerry’s hands were tied behind him and he was thrown on the ground.

The boys sent the team on their way, trusting to luck that the horses would find their way home.

“What are you going to do with me?” asked Jerry, when he found himself bound and helpless.

“You’ll soon see, Jerry Upton,” came from the leader, in such a muffled voice that our hero tried in vain to recognize the speaker.

“Make him march!” said another.

“All right, march!”

Into the woods the masked gang hurried Jerry. When he attempted to turn back, they hit him with their sticks and tripped him up.

Finally, when he would go no further, four of the boys picked him up and carried him.

Nearly a quarter of an hour was spent in this manner, and the party reached a little clearing. On three sides were tall trees, and on the fourth a wall of rocks.

“This is the spot,” cried the leader. “Now tie him to a tree and get the stuff out of the cave.”

At once the young oarsman was bound to a tree on the edge of the clearing.

Then two of the boys entered a cave between the rocks.

Soon they came forth with a pot filled with a thick, black liquid and two big pillows.

At once Jerry realized what his captors meant to do. They were going to tar and feather him!