CHAPTER IV.

A Race on the Water.

A week passed, and the Speedwell again rode proudly at her moorings, in front of the cottage; but her appearance was greatly changed.  A “center-board” and several handy lockers had been neatly fitted up in her, and her long, low hull painted black on the outside and white on the inside; and her tall, raking mast and faultless rigging gave her quite a ship-like appearance.

Frank had just been putting on a few finishing touches, and now stood on the wharf admiring her.  It was almost night, and consequently he could not try her sailing qualities that day; and he was so impatient to discover whether or not he had made a failure, that it seemed impossible for him to wait.

While he was thus engaged, he heard the splashing of oars, and, looking up, discovered two boys rowing toward him in a light skiff As they approached, he recognized George and Harry Butler, two of his most intimate acquaintances.  They were brothers, and lived about a quarter of a mile from Mrs. Nelson’s, but they and Frank were together almost all the time.  Harry, who was about a year older than Frank, was a very impulsive fellow, and in a moment of excitement often said and did things for which he felt sorry when he had time to think the matter over; but he was generous and good-hearted, and if he found that he had wronged any one, he never failed to make ample reparation.  George, who was just Frank’s age, was a jolly, good-natured boy, and would suffer almost any indignity rather than retaliate.

“Well, Frank,” said Harry, as soon as they came within speaking distance, “George and I wanted a little exercise, so we thought we would row up and see what had become of you.  Why don’t you come down and see a fellow?  Hallo!” he exclaimed, on noticing the change in the Speedwell’s appearance, “what have you been trying to do with your old scow?”

“Why, don’t you see?” said Frank.  “I’ve been trying to make a yacht out of her.”

“How does she sail?” inquired George.

“I don’t know.  I have just finished her, and have not had time to try her sailing qualities yet.”

“I don’t believe she will sail worth a row of pins,” said Harry, confidently, as he drew the skiff alongside the Speedwell, and climbed over into her.  “But I’ll tell you what it is,” he continued, peeping into the lockers and examining the rigging, “you must have had plenty of hard work to do in fixing her over.  You have really made a nice boat out of her.”

“Yes, I call it a first-rate job,” said George.  “Did you make the sails yourself, Frank?”

“Yes,” answered Frank.  “I did all the work on her.  She ought to be a good sailer, after all the trouble I’ve had.  How would you like to spend an hour with me on the river to-morrow?  You will then have an opportunity to judge for yourself.”