The two boats-for each of the Racer lads had his own craft-were on a line, and were headed for a long dock that ran out into the quiet inlet of the Atlantic which washed the shores of the little settlement known as Harbor View, a fishing village about thirty miles from New York. Wow! Here’s where I put it all over you by about six lengths!
boasted Andy Racer, paying no attention to his brother’s well-meant advice, and then the two lads got into the swing of the oars, and the skiffs fairly leaped over the waves that rolled in long swells.