"Yes," assented the head coach, adding: "Don't forget to keep your eyes in the boat, whatever you do. Your coxswain will watch the other craft, and tell you when to spurt. This is important—eyes in the boat and no talking. You've got to row!"
For the other crews, their coaches and advisers were speaking the last words to the nervous lads. From time to time those in the Boxer Hall or the Fairview eight looked over at their rivals. Randall was to take the middle course, an advantage that had come to them by lot.
Tom and his three chums wanted desperately to talk about the dramatic scene enacted in the boathouse just before they had started, but there was no chance. They had hurried away, and in the launch, on the trip down, Mr. Lighton held their attention. Tom had managed to slip up to Ruth, and hand her the brooch just before leaving. That she was surprised is putting it mildly.
"Oh, Tom! Where on earth did you get it?" she had cried. "I—I could hug you for this!" and her eyes sparkled.
"We'll postpone the hugging until after the race! Just cheer for our boat!"
"I will. Oh, Tom, my dear old brooch! Can't you tell me how you got it?"
"Not now—later—I haven't time. See you after the race!" and he had run off to join his mates.
