CHAPTER XXVII
A BRUSH WITH BOXER
"What do you think about it, boys?" called Mr. Lighton, from the launch where he and Mr. Pierson were sitting to do the coaching as they glided along. "Do you want to try it?"
"Sure thing!" answered Tom.
"Of course," assented Pete Backus, from the second eight.
"All right. Just row along then, and don't make any allusion to a race," advised Mr. Lighten. "If they want to pick up and come in, let them. Only—don't let them win!" he added, significantly. "Even if it is only a friendly brush."
"Let them win! I should say not!" declared Frank. "Be ready to pick me up quick now, fellows, when Jerry gives the word to spurt."
"Aye, aye, sir!" echoed Bricktop Molloy, from his position behind the stroke oar.
"And say, we don't want to let those fellows do us, either," went on Percy Pineford, coxswain of the second eight. "Let's beat the varsity and Boxer Hall, too."
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