CHAPTER XXXII
BOSWELL'S CHANCE
"How about you, Dutch?" asked Tom eagerly, as he hurried up to his dripping chum, while others followed. The lads in rowing costumes did not hesitate to crowd close, while the other spectators, and there were many on the float, rather held back, for Dutch, in the exuberance of his mirth, was shaking himself like a Newfoundland dog, scattering drops all over.
"Fine and dandy!" was the answer of the big lad. "I just needed a bath."
"Look here!" exclaimed Mr. Lighton, somewhat sternly, "you had better get a good rubdown, and put on some dry togs. Have you any dry ones here?"
"No, but"
"He can take mine, I guess I'm not going to get a chance to row," spoke Harry Morton, a Freshman, and he smiled gamely in spite of the disappointment he must have felt, for he had practiced hard, as a substitute.
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