The Eight-Oared Victors/Chapter 25
CHAPTER XXV
THE NEW SHELLS
"Say, aren't they beauts!"
"All to the cream!"
"Nothing like 'em ever seen on this river before!"
"And look at the eight! Isn't that a peach?"
"Easy there, Housenlager, that isn't a ferryboat!" and Jerry Jackson kept the big lad from stepping into the new eight-oared shell. The other exclamations, as may easily be surmised, came from the college lads as they gathered about the new float and boathouse, in front of which were the new craft that had been put in the water that day. It was a week or so after the opening of Randall, and matters were shaping themselves up in some kind of order.
"Two fours, four singles, two doubles and the eight!" remarked Tom. "Say, that committee of old grads certainly did themselves proud all right!"
"They sure did," agreed Sid.
"And this boathouse can't be beat!" added Phil, as he and the others inspected the new structure.
"I only hope that same thing applies to our boats," remarked the Big Californian, grimly.
"There'll be something coming to us if they can't be beaten."
"Let's get in and have a trial," suggested Sid. "Come, we've got enough for two eights—one crew in the old shell and one in the new. We'll find out if she's stiff enough."
"Better wait until Mr. Lighton gives the word," suggested Tom. "They'll want to soak up a bit, anyhow, being new; and our weight might open up the seams too much."
In fact the boats had only been in the water since that morning, a committee of the rowing association superintending their removal from the freight station on trucks.
The letter announcing that they were on their way had been received some little time before, and the advent of the rowing craft was eagerly waited. Then had come a simple ceremony, when a committee of the presenting graduates had formally turned over the boathouse and outfit to Randall College.
"Well, we'll have to organize soon, pick out a coxswain and captain, and arrange for hard training," said Tom.
"Yes, there isn't much time between now and the football season," agreed Frank. "Boxer Hall and Fairview will want to wind up the rowing game as early as they can. It's been a double drill for them, since they raced in the Spring. Next Spring we'll get in the game with them."
"Here comes Mr. Lighton," suggested Sid. "Maybe he'll have something to say," and he indicated the coach coming down toward the boathouse.
"Well, boys, how do you like them?" asked Mr. Lighton, as he indicated the new craft.
"Swell!"
"Peachy!"
"Pippy!"
These were only a sample of the many expressions of approval.
"I guess I'll slip in one of those singles and have a try at it," remarked Boswell, starting for the dressing rooms to change into rowing costume.
"No, don't, please—not just yet," said Mr. Lighton. "I want to look them over first, to see if there are any flaws. You can take out one of the old ones."
"Say, you don't seem to want me to do anything in the boating line!" exclaimed the rich lad. "You shifted me out of the eight, and now you don't want me to practice in a single. I tell you I know something about a boat—I've done as much work this Summer as those fellows," and he indicated Tom and his three chums.
"That's all right," responded Mr. Lighton, quietly. "I'm not denying that, but I want you to understand that I did not shift you out of the eight without good reason, and there is still time for you to try to make good—even yet."
"No, I'm going to stick to the single—and I'm going to win!" snapped Boswell.
"Good—I hope you do," assented the coach. "Now, boys, we've got to get together, select a captain for the varsity, also the coxswain, as well as officials, and rowers for the other boats. It won't do to go at this slip-shod fashion. What do you say to a meeting to-night to select the officials?"
"Good!" came the general cry, and then matters were talked over at length. As far as arrangements with Boxer Hall and Fairview were concerned, they had been practically completed in the Spring. All that remained was the selection of the day for the regatta, the marking of the course, the settlement of rules, which would be practically the same as those governing Boxer Hall and Fairview, and the selecting of the officials.
The other two colleges had very little to do to get ready for the races, but Randall had considerable. However, under the guidance of Mr. Lighton, affairs soon shaped up.
There was some wire-pulling in regard to the election of a varsity captain, but the choice eventually fell upon Frank Simpson, who pulled stroke. It met with general approval, for all liked the Big Californian, and no one who had been tried at stroke did anywhere nearly as well as did he. For coxswain the choice fell upon Jerry Jackson—in fact there was no opposition, for many who might have liked to try for it, felt that they were not equal to the responsibility. But Jerry seemed to fit in there naturally. He was just the right weight, Mr. Lighton said; he had a certain delicacy, yet firmness, in steering, and he could use judgment.
As for the singles, their disposition was simple. A number of lads signified their desire to enter into a competition among themselves, the best to be picked to meet Boxer Hall and Fairview contestants. Boswell was to be one who would enter the elimination trials, and he accepted the responsibility with an air of confidence that caused much secret amusement, and no little disgust. Snail Looper also expressed a desire to try, as did a number of others.
In the doubles a number of new lads, with whom we are not immediately concerned, entered, and as for the fours, some juniors and sophomores, together with a few freshmen, made up three combinations, the best one of which was to meet the rivals.
"As for the eight," said Mr. LIghton, "which craft, in a measure will be regarded as the main varsity boat, we now have two crafts—the old one and the new. I suggest that there be elimination trials, and several friendly races between the two crews.
"In this way not only will you get practice, but you will have experience in pulling against another boat, which will stand you in good stead.
"I have also to announce that Mr. Pierson, whom some of you know as the old Cornell oarsman, has kindly consented to help me in coaching you. We will draw up a set of training rules, and I expect every man to follow them faithfully. Otherwise there is no use in going into this thing. Remember the condition of this magnificent gift to Randall was that she should prove herself a victor."
"And she will!" cried Tom, while the others echoed his words.
There remained a few other preliminaries to arrange, and minor officials to select, and then the meeting of the athletic committee ended.
"Oh, I say!" cried Phil, at the conclusion. "I wonder if it's too late to go see the girls?"
"Guess not," agreed Tom. "I'm with you."
"Same here," echoed Frank and Phil, and they hurried to catch a trolley for Fairview Institute.
As they walked up the steps to the building where the young ladies were permitted to receive visitors, they saw a lad standing there. Just as Tom was about to ring the bell, the door opened, and a maid announced to the waiting lad:
"Miss Clinton can see no one."
"She is out, do you mean?"
"I do not know. That was the message Miss Philock told me to give you."
"Oh, all right," and, turning so that the light from the hall shone on his face, the countenance of Boswell was disclosed to our friends.
"Oh!" he exclaimed blankly, as he recognized them. Then looking at Tom he added:
"Perhaps you'll have better luck than I did, Parsons!"
"Perhaps," admitted Tom, drily.