CHAPTER XV
IN THE ROWING-ROOM
February came in at Hillton as though resolved to make up for itsbrevity by strict attention to business, and dealt out snow and sleetwith a lavish hand, and bullied the elements, which had begun to showsigns of relenting, into a state of sullen ferocity. For days togetherthe sun never so much as showed its face through the leaden clouds,and the winds howled spitefully across the yard. It was the sortof weather which, as Trevor explained one afternoon, while staringdolorously out the window, fairly drove a fellow to study. The riverretained its armor of glaring ice, and the white-winged yachts passedand repassed continuously, without, however, eliciting anything but themost grudging admiration from Dick. The hockey team went to Marshalland triumphed decisively over St. Eustace, who, minus Jenkins and thefreckle-faced Billings, was shorn of her strength. And, as though thatwas not glory enough, Hillton and her old rival met in debate in thetown hall at Hillton and the former won a fourth consecutive victory byproving to the satisfaction of three staid and reverend judges that thedevelopment of the arid West would prove of more benefit to the UnitedStates than the construction of an isthmian canal.
Work in the cage had begun for the baseball candidates, and Carl Graywas very busy. Ambitious youths who were striving for places on thetrack team held forth three afternoons each week in the gymnasium, anda spirit of athletism seized upon the school world. The first squadof crew candidates had graduated from weights to machines, while thesecond squad, swelled by eight recruits since its first assembling,were still in the throes of preliminary training. Professor Beck had“hooked” the promising upper middle boy of whom he had spoken to Dick;several candidates, inclusive of the unfortunate Perry, had beendropped, and Coach Kirk had paid his first visit to the academy, hadlooked the fellows over undemonstratively, and had gone his way again.To-day, a bleak and dismal Thursday, the machines were occupied, andProfessor Beck was watching the performances of the eight youths withdissatisfied mien.
“Lengthen out, Waters, lengthen out; that’s better. Crocker, yourrecovery’s too slow; put some ginger into it; this is no place to go tosleep. Four, put more drive into your legs; that’s the way. Stroke, hitit up a little!” And Dick, in obedience to the command, quickened hisstroke. When the rest had gone Beck turned to Dick: “Hope, what’s thematter with Taylor? This is the third day he’s been absent. We can’thave that. You must speak to him, and tell him that he’ll have toattend to business better.”
And Dick promised and went off laggingly to the task. He found Taylorin his room in a boarding-house in the village.
He was stretched out on a couch reading when Dick entered in responseto a loud “Come in.” He appeared surprised when he looked up and sawwho his visitor was, but rose to the demands of the occasion.
“Hello, Hope, glad to see you. Sit down. Been ice-yachting lately?”
Dick replied gravely that he had not, and then heroically plunged intothe subject of his visit.
“Look here, Taylor,” he said, “I wish you’d try to be a little morecareful about training. You missed work again to-day. This makes thethird time it’s happened in the last two weeks. Can’t you do betterthan that?”
Taylor frowned and yawned lazily before he answered.
“I’m glad you’ve mentioned it, Hope. The fact is, I’ve been thinkingabout chucking it. I can’t see how I’m going to go in for rowing thisyear and hope to pass spring exams. That’s what the trouble is, oldchap. I’ve been digging hard all afternoon”--adding, as he saw Dickglance at the magazine in his hands--“just this minute laid my Greekaside and took up this to--er--ease my brain.” He stopped and smiledamiably across.
Dick frowned.
“That’s nonsense, Taylor, and you know it,” he said in low tones.
“Nonsense!” Taylor raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“Yes, nonsense. You can’t convince me that you’re so stupid as not tobe able to train for the crew and get through with your studies. Thereare lots of fellows doing it; always have done it. I’m doing it myself;Crocker’s doing it; so’s Milton and Arnold and lots of fellows; they’reall in in our class; I haven’t heard them say that they were afraid ofnot passing.”
“Well, that may be,” replied Taylor, “but it’s a question that everyfellow must decide for himself. I honestly don’t think I ought to keepup crew work; I’ve got my folks to think of, you know; they didn’tsend me to school here to row or play football or anything of thatsort--that is, not that alone. I’ve got to pass, and to do that I’vegot to study. If I’m not as smart and clever as some of the rest ofyou”--here there was a trace of a sneer--“I can’t help it; a fellow’swhat he is, you know.”
Dick experienced an intense desire to kick his host and tell him whathe thought of him. But instead he smiled conciliatingly.
“I think you’re underestimating your ability, Taylor. Like a goodfellow, get those notions out of your head and come back to work; doyour best for the crew; it’s your last year. You know what shape we’rein; we haven’t anywhere near the material we ought to have. Confoundit, Taylor, you’ve got to stay in the boat! You can’t do anythingelse, when you stop and think how your leaving will weaken us!”
A smile of pleased vanity crossed the other boy’s face. Then he shookhis head resolutely.
“No, I can’t do it, Hope. Oh, I’ve thought it all over, and I know whatit means to the crew; but you’ll soon find another fellow at seven, andnever miss me. Of course, I’m awful sorry if it’s going to make troublefor you, Hope; you know that. But it’s my duty, and I guess we’d betterconsider the matter settled. I”--he smiled apologetically--“I’ll tendermy resignation, Hope.”
Dick arose, striving to conceal the indignation he felt.
“I sha’n’t accept it to-day, Taylor,” he answered gravely. “If youfeel the same way about it to-morrow evening, after thinking it over,send me word and then I’ll scratch your name off the list. Only I hopeyou’ll see your way to stay in the boat.”
On the way back to the academy Dick gave vent to his feelings, creasinghis brows savagely, kicking right and left at inoffending lumps of ice,and even muttering half aloud as he strode along.
“Of all mean, contemptible tricks,” he thought angrily, “that’s theworst! Just to spite me he’s willing to see the school defeated! ByJove, I have half a mind to put the whole affair before Beck andWheeler; the whole school ought to know it. If they did, Taylor’s lifewouldn’t be worth living! But, no, I can’t shove it off on any oneelse; I’m captain; I’ve got to fight it out alone; and I will! And I’llturn out a decent crew in spite of Taylor, in spite of anything he cando, by Jove! I’ll----”
“’Ware the dog!” cried a voice, and he looked up quickly to see Trevorgrinning at him and to find Muggins leaping about him.
“Hello, Muggs!” he cried, vainly striving to bestow a pat upon thatunquiet animal. “Say, Trevor, hasn’t he grown? He’s twice the size hewas when you got him!”
“It’s a way puppies have.”
“You don’t say so? Who’d have thunk it! Beastly cold, isn’t it? Whereyou going?”
“You can ask a lot of questions for a small kid,” laughed Trevor. “I’mgoing to take Muggins back to his soap-box, and then I’m going home.We’ve been out for a nice long walk, haven’t we, Muggins? Where’ve youbeen?”
“Paying an afternoon call on Roy Taylor. Come on, I’ll walk back to thestable with you.”
“All right; come ahead, Muggins. Now, behave yourself nicely beforeyour Uncle Richard! Hope Taylor was glad to see you?”
“I guess he was. Why?”
“Oh, you needn’t be so bally secretive about it,” grinned Trevor.“Don’t you think I know that you went to call him down for not showingup to-day?”
“You seem to know a good deal,” answered Dick, noncommittingly.
Trevor nodded vigorously.
“I do; I’m what you fellows call ‘right smart.’ I hope you gave it tohim straight from the shoulder.” And a
fter a pause, in a sudden burstof enthusiasm, “I don’t like that chap a little bit!”
“I gathered as much,” laughed Dick. “Beck was pretty huffy at him thisafternoon.”
“I don’t wonder. Just fancy, the beggar doesn’t show up half the time,while the rest of us poor dubs sit there and slave at those ballymachines until our arms are pulled out of shape. I know mine are atleast six inches longer than they were a month ago.”
“How did you get on to-day?”
“Fairly well, I fancy. Only it takes a long time to get used to yourstyle of rowing. You see, it’s rather different from ours.”
“Is it? Perhaps you’re not aware that we are supposed to row theEnglish stroke?” Trevor raised his eyebrows.
“The dickens you say? Well, I can’t see much resemblance, Dick. Why,you haven’t any body-swing; you make a chap’s legs do it all!”
“Do we? Well, you must mention that to Kirk next Saturday; I dare sayhe’ll be glad to hear about it.”
“Rot; I’m not finding fault; any old stroke will do me; I’m justsaying that there’s a difference between the stroke that Beck and youteach and the English stroke that I’ve seen. Maybe yours is the betterof the two. Here we are, Muggins. Now, be a good doggy until I see youagain; and don’t pull any more blankets off the table, or Jim will layit onto you with a strap.”
Muggins had by this time grown inured to partings, and so only stood bythe office stove and watched them disappear with head on one side and asort of “Must you go?” expression in his eyes.
“When do we get onto the river?” asked Trevor presently as theyretraced their steps down the village street in the teeth of anorthwest gale.
“Depends; sometimes in early March, sometimes not until about April.You see, the ice makes it awkward. Kirk has got it into his head thatwe’ll get out early this spring; I don’t know whether he’s made anyarrangements with the weather man.”
“He’s older than I expected. Last year I was a bit surprised to seewhat a staid and venerable party he was.”
“Well, he’s nearly forty, though I don’t suppose that’s exactlyold--when you get used to it; they get even older, I’m told. But Kirkknows a good deal about rowing, and he has turned out some dandy crews,both here and at Harwell. When he was at school here he was captain ofthe eight in his upper middle and senior years, and at college he rowedfour in his class crew the first year, went into the varsity boat thenext, and stayed there until he graduated; he was captain in his senioryear. Then he coached them for a while. This is his fourth year withus, and we’ve beaten St. Eustace twice and been beaten once in thattime; and we’ll beat her again next June.”
“I hope so,” said Trevor, “only I can’t see why every one seemsso half-hearted about it. I don’t mean you or Beck,” he explainedhurriedly, “but the fellows as a rule; they don’t seem to care muchabout it.”
“I know; but part of that is just--just put on, assumed, Trevor; whenthe crews get on the water it will be different. But, just the same,”he owned sorrowfully, “there is an unusual lack of rowing spirit amongthe fellows this year. I dare say it will happen that way now and then.Only I wish it hadn’t happened this year,” he added ruefully.
“So do I, for your sake, old chap,” answered Trevor heartily as theyclimbed to their room.
The head coach put in his appearance on the following Saturdayafternoon, despite a heavy snow-storm that well-nigh blocked theroads, and by his brisk, businesslike manners put new life into thefirst squad, for the moment at least. Malcolm Kirk was a man of mediumheight, approaching forty years of age, with a good but not exaggeratedbreadth of chest and shoulder, and very serious and steady black eyes.His manner was usually contained and rather grave, and he possessed awidely noted habit of keeping his own mind and every one else’s fixedfirmly for the time on the matter in hand, to the exclusion of allelse.
As an example of this, it was told of him that once, while coaching acollege crew in a barge, he was lecturing a man in the waist on thesubject of dropping the hands, when the barge struck a snag whichripped a hole in her. “You don’t get your oar out of the water clean,Four,” remonstrated the coach. “Drop the forearm as well as the hands.”The barge was by this time awash. “We’ve ripped a hole in the skin,sir,” called the coxswain. “Eh? Very careless,” answered the coach fromthe bow of the launch. “There, Four, that’s better. Now make your wristturn sharper. Keep it up, keep it up; you’re doing better!” And theeight rowed the half-filled barge an eighth of a mile before Kirk wasquite satisfied with the unfortunate Four’s work, and allowed the mento come out.
To-day the first thing he noted was the presence of a new fellow atseven.
“Where’s that man Taylor?” he asked of Dick.
“He’s stopped training, Mr. Kirk; says he can’t keep up with hisstudies.” Kirk stared.
“Nonsense, we must have him back; tell him so, Hope. Now, Six, thatwon’t do; don’t meet the oar that way, take it back to you; finish hardand full. Bow, you begin to slide forward too soon; start your swingfirst and let it carry the slide with it. Three, you’re doing betterto-day. Keep the leg-power up to the last moment; knees down firm atthe end of the stroke.” And Trevor, tugging heroically, hears, andbegins to think that perhaps he _will_ learn the stroke eventually,after all!
When work was over Kirk again brought up the subject of Taylor. “Yes,we must have him back, Hope; tell him so; make him understand thatit’s necessary. He’s a good oar; fits into his place well; has lots ofweight where he needs it.”
“I’m afraid he won’t come back,” answered Dick. “He’s got it into hishead that he can’t go in for rowing and pass his exams.”
“Pooh! never mind what he’s got into his head; tell him we need himin the boat; make him understand that it’s his duty, Hope. And I tellyou we _do_ need him, my boy; never saw such an unpromising lot offellows at Hillton. That man you had at seven to-day couldn’t fill theplace in the boat; he’s too light; don’t think he has the grit for it,even if he learned to put some power into his stroke, which he doesn’tat present. You’ve got a good man at bow; what’s his name? Shield?Well, he’s promising. And Three, I like Three’s looks; seems to be inearnest, though he has a deuce of a queer way of throwing his bodyaround the boat.”
“That’s Nesbitt,” explained Dick. “He’s English, and has rowed some athome; I believe he finds our stroke rather difficult; but I think he’lldo well; he’s my roommate, and I know that he’s the sort of fellowthat’ll keep on trying until he gets what he’s after.”
Kirk nodded approvingly.
“I shouldn’t wonder. English, eh? That explains that body-swing of his,I suppose. Well, I guess he’ll turn out well, though I believe he’ll dobetter at four when we get into the water. Now, I’ll have a look at theother squad.”
“It’s all very well for Kirk to talk about making Taylor come back,”said Dick to himself that evening, “but I wish he had it to do.However, I suppose I’ll have to make a stab at it. But I’d rather havea tooth pulled. We do need him, though, and that’s a fact, and whatI’ve got to do is forget what I like and don’t like, and work forthe crew. I’ll go around and see him to-morrow. No, by Jove, I’ll goto-night; there’s no time like the present for anything disagreeable!”And he jumped up, threw aside his book, and began to struggle into hiscoat. Trevor glanced up in surprise.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Over to the village to see Taylor.”
“Phew! what a growl; want me to go along?”
“No, not unless you want to sit on the steps and wait for me; I’ve gotto see him about something private.”
Trevor grinned.
“Fancy, now! Honest, Dick, if you’re going to punch his head, I’d likeblooming well to help you.”
“I dare say,” laughed his roommate, “but I’m not going to punch hishead. Coming along?”
“And sit on the front doorstep in this weather and twiddle my thumbs?I fancy not, my dear. As the vulgar man
ner of speech hath it, ‘Guessagain!’” And Trevor snuggled up ostentatiously to the warmth of theblaze. But after Dick had taken his departure he laid down his book andeyed the flames thoughtfully.
“I rather wish I had gone along,” he muttered. “It’s just possible thathe is going to punch Taylor, after all.”