slope from the river, toward a fine residence on the hill.
"He must have money in the bank—talking to himself that way," remarked Tom, in a low voice.
"I wonder what it is he's leaving in his boat?" spoke Phil.
"He trusts us, anyhow," laughed Frank.
"He didn't see us," came from Sid. "Anyhow the place is locked."
The boys rested there by the boathouse for several minutes.
Tom was about to propose that they start back, for it looked cloudy again, as if the rain would begin once more. But before he could mention this fact Sid exclaimed:
"Here comes the Boxer Hall shell! Say, look at those fellows row!"
"They are hitting up the pace!" agreed Frank.
All looked to see a fine eight-oared shell fairly scudding over the water under the impulse of the sixteen sturdy arms of the rowers.
"We'll soon be doing that," said Phil, in a low voice. And then some of the lads in the shell looked over and saw our friends.
