The horses now demanded all of Harry’s attention. One of them was bound to run away, and the youth had all he could do to hold the animal in check. But the lad knew what he was doing and presently held them under complete control.

Then our hero staggered out of the bushes with his hand on his neck, where a big lump was rising.

“Where are they?”

“Gone! Did they rob you, Jerry?”

“No.”

“Then you are in luck.”

“What do you mean, Harry?”

“Crosby took my gold watch and chain.”

“Never!”

“He did. Jerry, those two chaps have turned nothing but common thieves,” went on Harry, bitterly.

“It certainly looks so, Harry. What shall we do now?”

“Jump in and we’ll go after them.”

Jerry was soon beside Harry, and they turned up the side road taken by the fugitives. The moon was out full, making the way as light as day, yet nothing was to be seen of the rascally pair.

This was not to be wondered at, for after running along the road but a few hundred feet, Si Peters and Wash Crosby had taken to an open field. Crossing this, they came out upon a railroad track. A freight train was coming along slowly, around the bend of the lake, and they had small trouble in boarding this. Inside of an hour they were many miles away from the vicinity.

Jerry and Harry searched for the pair until midnight, and then gave up the hunt and returned to Lakeview. Once again the authorities were notified, and the detectives started on a fresh hunt for the evil-doers. Yet it was destined to be a long time before Si Peters and Wash Crosby were heard of again.

About this time the Lakeview boat club was organizing another series of rowing races, and both Harry and Jerry were easily persuaded to enter a contest, which was to take place between a number of local oarsmen.

A prize of a fine bicycle had been put up, also several other articles of more or less value, and Jerry and Harry immediately went into training, with a firm determination to win.

There were seven entries, all by young fellows of Jerry’s age, and as the youth looked at his opponents he felt that the race would be no easy one.

Saturday afternoon, the time appointed for the contest, came, bright and clear, and it found the lake front crowded to its utmost capacity. Many came over from Rockpoint, but it was noticed that those who had belonged to Si Peters’ crowd were absent.

The race was to be two miles long, up the lake and back again. The boats were all drawn up in a line, and everything was made ready for a start. Jerry was at one end of the line, with Harry at the other, and the remaining five contestants between them.

Bang! went the gun on the judges’ boat, and away shot the seven rowers like one man; and the race was begun.

For over half a mile the seven contestants kept almost side by side. Then three of them were seen to drop behind.

“Gravling is ahead!”

“Harry Parker is second.”

“Phil Raymond is a close third!”

“Jerry Upton is crawling up!”

So the shouting went on, as the four leaders swept past. When the turning point was reached, Harry led, Raymond came second, Gravling third, and Jerry fourth. The remaining three felt they were out of the race, and rowed back to the boathouse.

“Good for you, Harry!”

“What’s the matter, Jerry? You’re not doing as good as the day you beat Si Peters!”

“Hurry up, Gravling!”

“Pull for all you know how, Raymond!”

On and on came the four, their long blades flashing brightly in the sunshine. They were making fast time, and, no matter who won, the lake record was likely to be broken.

Half way down the homestretch, Harry still led, with Gravling but half a length behind him. A length further back came Raymond and Jerry, side by side.

But the terrific speed was now beginning to tell upon Raymond, and slowly but surely he fell behind, despite the urgings of his friends. Then Jerry set to work to overtake Gravling.

“See Jerry Upton crawling up!”

“Oh, but isn’t that a beautiful stroke!”

“Gravling can’t shake him off!”

“They are a tie!”

The last cry was true. When still a dozen lengths from the finish Jerry had overtaken Gravling. But they did not remain tied long. Half a dozen strokes and Jerry shot ahead and the bow of his craft overlapped Harry’s stern.

“Jerry Upton is second!”

“He’s going to shake up Harry Parker for first place!”

On came the two friends, but now it was noticed that Jerry, although he still rowed his best, seemed to be losing his interest in the race.

“It will be no fun to beat Harry,” was the thought which ran through his head; and then, with a yell from three thousand throats, Harry crossed the line a winner, with our hero not quite half a boat length behind.

“Hurrah for Harry Parker!”

“Hurrah for Jerry Upton!”

Cheer after cheer rent the air, and both lads were immediately surrounded by their friends. Jerry was one of the first to shake his chum’s hand.

“You won it fairly, Harry,” he said. “What kind of time did we make?”

He was greatly pleased to learn that the lake record for two miles had been lowered by forty-three seconds, and that he had helped lower it by forty-two seconds.

That evening the club held a meeting, and Harry was presented with the bicycle, something he had been wishing for for some time. Jerry’s prize was a silver watch and chain.

“This just suits me,” he said. “Now, when I’m away from home, I’ll be able to tell what time it is.”

The celebration was at its height, when a message came for Jerry from his home, stating that his father had been kicked by one of the horses and was badly injured.

This news shocked the youth a good deal, and bidding his friends a hasty good-night, the young oarsman set off for the farm on a run.

He found his father lying on a couch in the dining-room. A doctor had just arrived, and he was doing all that he could for the sufferer.

“Where did the horse kick him, mother?” he questioned, hurriedly.

“In the side, right under the heart,” replied Mrs. Upton. “Oh, I do trust it is not serious!”

“So do I. What can I do?”

“I don’t know. We must see what the doctor says.”

The medical man, after a long examination, declared that several ribs had been fractured, and that Mr. Upton was suffering from shock. Some medicine was administered, and the patient was carefully carried upstairs and placed upon a bed.

No one in the farmhouse slept that night. Mrs. Upton sat by her husband’s side, and Jerry came and went, ready to do anything that might be asked of him.

Two days later the doctor pronounced the wounded man out of danger. But his injuries were severe, and it would be a long while before Mr. Upton would be able to go around as before.

His enforced idleness made the farmer fret a good deal. It was true that the harvest work on the farm was over, but he had wished to do much more.

“And I reckon that trip to New York is now out of the question,” Jerry heard him say to Mrs. Upton.

“Why, father, were you going to New York?” asked the boy, in much curiosity.

“I had an idea that way, son,” returned Mr. Upton, slowly. “I was going on business,” he added, after a pause.

At this Jerry was more curious than ever. New York was over two hundred miles from Lakeview, and he had never heard of his parent having business in the metropolis.

“You see it’s this way, Jerry,” said Mr. Upton, noticing his look. “When your uncle Charley died he left all his property to me. Some time ago I was cleaning out one of his old trunks and I ran across some deeds to property in California. From what I can make out the land must be nigh to the city of Sacramento.”

“And the property belongs to you?” cried Jerry.

“No, I can’t say that exactly. As near as I can figure it, your uncle Charley owned an interest in it. The property was in the hands of a land boomer named Alexander Slocum, and there was a letter in the trunk from this Alexander Slocum which was dated from New York. I think this boomer holds other papers relating to the land, and I was thinking of making a trip to New York and hunting him up, if he is still there.”

“Why not let me go to New York in your place,” suggested Jerry, quickly. It had always been the ambition of his life to pay a visit to the great metropolis.

“Well, I was kind of thinking of that, son,” returned the sick man, slowly. “I’ll see about it in a day or two.”