of the day, and Boxer her first defeat. As for Randall, once more she tasted bitterness.
"Three cheers for Boswell!" called someone, and though he was no favorite, no one could withhold from the measure of praise due him for his plucky effort. Few knew what had contributed to his defeat. Even his rivals, hearing him call to the man on the bank, only thought him shouting to some friend, and thought how foolish he was thus to waste his precious time and energy. But it was none of their business, and so they rowed on to defeat him.
"Never mind!" consoled Mr. Lighton. "You rowed the best you could, Boswell, I have no doubt. It was a fair race."
"I—I could have won," he panted, and there were some smiles from those who thought it but part of his usual boastfulness. But Boswell paid no attention to them. He was seeking out Tom Parsons, and the Mexican.
"Get ready for the eight-oared race now," directed some of the officials. "Randall, is your crew ready?"
"All ready," answered Mr. Lighton.
"Ready," answered Pinky Davenport, for Boxer Hall.
"All ready," assented Roger Barns, for Fairview.
Boswell made his way through the press of
