CHAPTER VIII
CANDIDATES FOR THE CREW
Roy Taylor’s work was apparent when on the following Tuesday afternoonthe candidates for the crew reported in the rowing-room at thegymnasium. Dick counted the assemblage over twice, but could make nomore than nineteen, a sorry showing compared with last year; twentymen--including himself--from which to select two eights! But he wascareful to let none of the discontent that he felt appear on his face.
“There aren’t very many of us, fellows,” he said cheerfully, “but Iguess we all mean business, and that’s a good deal.”
Professor Beck entered at that moment, paused to remove his rubbers,and then surveyed the candidates through his glasses.
“Well, boys, are you all here?” His gaze traveled around the room. “ButI see that you’re not. Four o’clock was the hour, wasn’t it, Hope?”
“Yes, sir; and it’s now a quarter after. I guess they’re all here thatare coming.”
“Bless me, this won’t do! How many--four, six, ten, sixteen, twenty?Twenty men for two crews. What do you fellows think we’re going to racewith this year, pair-oars?”
The candidates, perched about the room on window-sills and radiators,smiled, but were careful not to laugh aloud, since it was evident thatthe professor was thoroughly vexed.
“Hope, you’ll have to go among the fellows and work up some interest inthe crews; and Taylor, you’re an old-crew man, you do the same; and therest of you, too, I want you all to talk rowing, and next week I wantas many more candidates on hand. This is perfect poppycock! Twenty men,indeed! Well, that’s all I’ve got to say to you; now listen to CaptainHope.” And the professor withdrew to a window, where he polished hisglasses vigorously and made a number of the new candidates very nervousby the critical way in which he studied them.
“I’d like every fellow’s name before he leaves,” said Dick. “And Iwant to see every one here promptly at three o’clock next Wednesdayafternoon. Meanwhile those of you who haven’t been examined forcrew work will please attend to it. Have you set any special days,professor?”
“Yes, to-morrow and Saturday afternoons,” answered the latter, “betweenfour and six.”
“You new fellows must understand that permits to take part in baseballand track games won’t answer for rowing, so please see Mr. Beckto-morrow if possible; if not, on Saturday. I hope that you’ll do asMr. Beck has requested; I mean try and work up more of an interestin rowing; every fellow ought to be able to bring at least one otherfellow with him next Wednesday. We’ve got a hard proposition beforeus this spring, but it’s by no means a hopeless one. We’ve beaten St.Eustace on the river before--often--and we can do it again; but itmeans lots of hard work, and any fellow that’s afraid of work mightas well pull out now, for we can’t have any shirking. Last springthere was a good deal of trouble at the first of the season becausethe candidates--some of them, that is--tried to get out of preliminarywork. That won’t do; the work on the weights at the beginning of theseason is really important, and it’s got to be faced; and I tell younow that any fellow who won’t go through with it honestly isn’t wanted.But I don’t believe there are any of that sort here to-day, and I hopethere won’t be next Wednesday. I guess that’s all I have to say. Ihope every fellow will bear in mind the fact that in trying for thecrew he is not only bettering his own physical condition and health,but standing by the school; he can’t do more for the honor of Hilltonthan by honest, sincere work on the crews. And it doesn’t make anydifference whether he makes the varsity boat or the second; in eithercase he’s doing his best, doing his duty; for the fellow that rows withthe second eight is helping to turn out a winning crew almost as muchas though he rowed in the race with St. Eustace. I hope we’ll all pulltogether this year and that there won’t be any discord. I’ll do mylevel best, and I’ll trust you fellows to do yours; and if that is so Idefy St. Eustace or any one else to beat us!”
The audience showed its approval of these sentiments by clapping,Taylor perhaps the loudest of all, and Dick, somewhat red in theface from his effort, smiled, and drawing a tablet from his pocket,proceeded to take the fellows’ names. Professor Beck settled hisglasses again on his nose and approached a youth who during theproceedings had been perched comfortably on the top of a radiator, butwho, having secured the entry of his name in the list of candidates,was now examining with interest the working of one of the rowingmachines.
“You’re Nesbitt, aren’t you?” asked the professor.
“Yes, sir.”
“Ever rowed any, Nesbitt?”
“Yes, as a youngster”--here the professor smiled slightly--“I used topaddle a bit; that was in England.”
“Ah, yes; I recollect you now. You won the last quarter in the relayrace the other night; that was well run, my boy, although you’re rathertoo heavy for fast work. How was your wind when you finished?”
“It was rather short; the spurts tuckered me quite a bit.”
“Yes, I imagine you could get rid of eight pounds or so to goodadvantage. You’d better come and see me to-morrow and take yourexamination, so that I can put you to work on the weights as soon aspossible. I’m glad you’re going to try for the crew; you look as thoughyou were made for a rowing man.” He nodded smilingly and moved away,and Trevor, assuming an appearance of unconcern, while secretly muchflattered by the professor’s attention, joined Dick, who had finishedhis list and was conversing with Roy Taylor and Crocker, a large,heavily built youth who had rowed at Number 6 in the second eight thepreceding year. Taylor was speaking when Trevor approached.
“Why, last winter over forty fellows turned out, and now look at ’em!Great Scott! There’s no use _trying_ to get a decent crew out of twentymen!”
Dick frowned, and Crocker offered a suggestion:
“Look here, the Hilltonian comes out in less than a week; what’s thematter with getting Singer to write a ripping editorial about thenecessity for more candidates, and--and ‘asking the support of theentire student body,’ and all that sort of stuff? Maybe there’s stilltime; I’m blamed if I know when the paper goes to press.”
“That’s a good idea, Bob,” answered Dick. “And I’ll see Singer thisevening. And meanwhile you fellows do what you can; you ought to beable to drum up lots of fellows, Taylor; you know plenty of them, andwhat you say has weight.”
“Well, I’ll do what I can, Hope, of course, but there doesn’t seem tobe the usual interest in rowing this year.”
“I know; we’ve got to awaken interest. I’ll see you the last of theweek and we’ll have another council of war. Going back to the room,Nesbitt?”
On their way across the Yard, which between the walks was a wasteof heavily crusted snow upon which the afternoon sunlight flasheddazzlingly, the two boys were silent--Dick with the little creases inhis forehead very deep, and Trevor kicking at the ice in a manner whichsuggested annoyance. When the dormitory was reached Trevor stoppedand let go savagely at a small cake of ice, which, as it was securelyfrozen to the granite step, only resulted in an unpleasant jar to hisfoot. But the jar seemed to loosen his tongue, for he turned quickly toDick as they passed into the building, and asked explosively:
“Is that chap Taylor all right?”
“Why? Have you heard anything?” asked Dick.
“No; only--only he looks as though he didn’t much like you, Hope; andthen he talks so sick!”
“Sick?”
“Yes; I mean he talks as though he didn’t _want_ the crew to be asuccess; haven’t you noticed it?”
“The trouble with Roy Taylor,” answered the other gravely as theypassed into Number 16, “is that he hates to have any one else win outat anything. He has a mighty high opinion of Roy Taylor, you know. Hewanted to be captain, and I don’t think he has ever forgiven me forbeating him; but I guess he’ll come round in the end and do his bestfor the crew.”
Trevor didn’t look impressed with this last remark. He studied theflames awhile thoughtfully as he held his hands up to the warmth. Then:
br /> “I see. I don’t fancy, then, he loves me much after the way I beat himSaturday night, eh?”
“I guess not,” answered Dick laughingly. “I ‘fancy’ we’re both down inhis black book.”
“Yes.” Trevor turned away and rummaged among the _débris_ of the studytable. “Seen my algebra? Never mind, here it is.” He drew a chair upbefore the fireplace and opened the book, only to lay it down again anddeliver himself forcibly of the following declaration:
“Taylor may be as waxy with me as he likes, Hope, but he’s got tounderstand that if he interferes with this crew business there’s aplaguy lot of trouble ahead for him!”
“And for me, too,” thought Dick, as he gazed despondently at the slimlist of candidates.