"Lunnon." Mr. Reginald Boswell had traveled abroad, it seemed.
"You ought to be thankful for any nickname, Bossy," put in Holly Cross. "It isn't every Freshman who is thus honored. It's going to be Bossy or nothing."
"Oh, but I say, Reggie isn't as bad as that!"
"Bossy or nothing!" insisted Bricktop.
"Well, then, tell me about the single shells," went on the rich student, evidently deciding to accept the less of two evils. "I'd like to row in those contests."
"Well, I guess you can—if you can make good," said Frank. "Come on, fellows," and he linked his arms in those of Sid and Tom, and walked them off toward their dormitory, followed by others of the chums, leaving Bossy, as he was generally called after that christening, to contemplate them with mingled feelings.
"Silly rotters!" he murmured after the manner of some of his English acquaintances. "I'll show them I can row, though!"
The news of the loss of the Boxer Hall cups was soon known all over Randall, and, in the next day or so, it was generally talked of, for there was a reward offered by the distracted jeweler, an article appearing in the local paper about it.
"I guess he didn't find any trace of them on the island," commented Sid.
