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Hello, there, Red Rover! Come alongside! "What's the row, fellows? This dandy breeze is too good to be wasted loafing." "Frank's coming in the Jupiter, and coming like a streak!" "Yes, and more than that, Bluff, he waves his hat as though h

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Hello, there, Red Rover! Come alongside! "What's the row, fellows? This dandy breeze is too good to be wasted loafing." "Frank's coming in the Jupiter, and coming like a streak!" "Yes, and more than that, Bluff, he waves his hat as though h
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"Hurry up, and give the signal, Frank!" "Yes, let's get the agony over with-either Bluff is a better all-round paddler than I am, or else he has to take water, that's all!" "Please hold your horses till I get a good focus on you, fellows!" called Will Milton, the official photographer of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club. He stood on a little private dock, overlooking Lake Camalot, and manipulated his camera with the air of a professional. "Sorry, but you'll have to wait a bit now, boys," replied Frank Langdon, the judge, who was also seated in a cedar canoe very like those of the contestants, only it was built for two, his mate being Will. "What's gone wrong now, Frank?" demanded Jerry Wallington, with his double-bladed paddle poised for the first dip. "Why, look at the Eastern Star-she's making her first Spring trip around the lake, and heads in a line to cut you off your course," declared the referee. "So much the worse for the poor old boat; we'll just have to run her down," calmly observed the youth called Bluff. "I was only thinking of your being swamped in the rough water she leaves in her wake. Better relax your muscles for a few minutes, you impatient braves." "Talk to me about your hard luck, what d'ye think of that? Why, the plagued old boat's just gone and stopped where she blocks us off in our little spin," grumbled Jerry, in plain disgust.