was now clambering from the shell. Big brown, half-naked men were hugging each other, and clumsily dancing in stockinged feet. Eagerly Cynthia asked her companion:
"Do tell me which is which, Jack. I want to be able to know them all by name. Which is the Stroke, and which is the man at Number Five? I want to see if he looks like you."
Hastings gave the information very soberly. The Stroke caught sight of his clouded face, and yelled to his fellows:
"Hey, here's Jack Hastings! Three long cheers for him. Are you ready?"
The cheer given by men still struggling to regain their normal breathing came so gratefully to John Hastings that he felt like whimpering, because they understood. The launch was deftly steered alongside the float, and grabbing the outstretched hand of Hastings, the Stroke nearly pulled him overboard, as he whispered:
"Jack, I am glad you could see the race with the Only One. It must have helped you over the rough places. There is noth-
