CHAPTER XXIII
PROSPECTS OF VICTORY
The erstwhile gallant crew of The Sleet lay upon the grass in frontof Academy Building in the shadow thrown by the wall that runs alongthe edge of the bluff. About them in little piles lay various wornand tattered books. Dick and Carl, propped upon their elbows, werenibbling the succulent ends of grass blades. Trevor lay flat upon hisback, gazing steadfastly upward at the slowly marching clouds, supremecontent upon his sunburned face. Stewart Earle sat cross-legged andperformed wonderful feats with a pearl-handled penknife. It was a fewminutes before two; dinner was over and the bell had not yet rung forrecitations.
Before them the warm red bulk of Academy Building, already hiddenin wide expanses with tender green ivy leaves, arose against thevelvety blue of the sky. In the tower a quivering disk of dazzlinglight marked where the sun shone upon the old bell. The trees were infull leaf, and the green was a little forest of light and shade andmurmurous branches. Even the river dozed, below the bluff turquoiseblue unbroken by swirl or eddy, beyond in the distance aglint with thesun. In the dormitories the windows were thrown wide, and boys lazedon the cushioned seats. There was a tuneful, unceasing hum of insects;the sun shone hotly; summer had come to the valley of the Hudson. Itwas the third day of June, a fact just remarked upon by Stewart, whohad casually added that it was the anniversary of the Battle of ColdHarbor. This exciting announcement went unnoticed for a moment. ThenCarl yawned loudly.
“Don’t believe it,” he muttered. More silence followed. Then, “It isextremely bad taste,” said Dick, “to air your knowledge in--that--inthat----” Then his teeth closed on an unusually attractive grass stemand he subsided. A little breeze crept up the slope from the campus andstirred the brown locks over Trevor’s forehead. He sat up suddenly andobserved Dick and Carl in fine disdain.
“Lazy beggars,” he muttered. At great labor and with many harrowinggroans he reached about and gathered a handful of grass. Dick knewwhat was coming, but hadn’t the energy to prepare for resistance untilit was too late. Then he sat up himself and, pulling the wad from hisneck, stuffed it down Carl’s. Every one giggled; it was really veryfunny for a warm day. The quartet were now sitting in a circle, evenCarl showing signs of life. Conversation appeared to be necessary. Dickopened his lips and closed them again without a sound. Trevor came tothe rescue.
“Hot,” he remarked.
“You’re an awful chatterbox,” sighed Carl. But the spell was broken.
“Only two weeks to the end of school,” said Dick. “By Jove, I’d justlike to know where the time’s gone; it doesn’t seem any time sincespring vacation!”
“That’s so,” answered Carl. “Another two weeks and it’ll be all over,and good-by to old Hillton. It’s funny how sorry it makes a chap.That’s the odd thing about it; it doesn’t seem so fine until you haveto leave it all. I wonder if I’ll have as good a time at college?”
“I know,” mused Dick sentimentally, “it’s almost like leaving home. Iwish--I wish I was going to stay another year!”
“My, you’re funny,” quoth Stewart. “Catch me being sorry when I getthrough!”
“Wait; you will be,” answered Carl. “There’s a whole raft of fellowsgoing up to Harwell this year, isn’t there? Do you know anything aboutyour room yet, Dick?”
“No; I guess I’ll find a small one near the Yard for this year. WhenTrevor comes he and I are going to room together, aren’t we, old chap?”
“If you’re good,” answered his chum gravely. When hostilities had endedCarl said reminiscently:
“It’s been a pretty good year for Hillton, hasn’t it?”
“So far; if you only beat St. Eustace at baseball, and if we canonly win on the river it’ll be the best year on record, I guess. Wecertainly did her up finely at the interscholastic meet, eh?”
“I should say so! Forty-three points to twenty-nine! And little Stewhere to thank for ten of them. Take off your hat, Stew!”
“’Tis off.”
“I’ll never forget the way in which he ran away from that St. Eustacefellow in the half-mile,” continued Carl, smiling. “And to think thatwhen he came here three years ago he couldn’t turn the door-knobwithout using both hands!”
“Oh, dry up,” said Stewart.
“I guess you’re pretty certain to beat St. Eustace at baseball, aren’tyou, Carl?”
“Yes, pretty certain; barring accidents we ought to have littletrouble. We play Shrewsburg again Saturday, and I believe we’ll shuther out.”
“Don’t get too confident,” warned Dick.
“No fear; and I don’t talk like this before the fellows. But we’vereally got the finest lot of players that I ever saw.”
“I know. Well, if you get both games from St. Eustace your name will godown to posterity in red letters with a wreath about it. I only wish Iwas as hopeful as you are.”
“Old Dick wouldn’t let himself get hopeful if we had a boatful oftailor’s dummies to row against,” said Trevor. “There isn’t anypossibility of our getting beaten on the fifteenth--barring accidents.”
“But the trouble is we can’t bar accidents,” replied Dick. “They willhappen even in the best regulated of crews. Somebody’s certain to takesick or sprain his wrist or something.”
“Isn’t he an old granny?” asked Trevor disgustedly.
“I hear you had a shake-up yesterday?” queried Carl.
“A little one; Kirk took Milton out and is trying Cheever at three. Andhe dropped Rankin from the second eight. That was all. I guess we’llrow about the way we are now. St. Eustace’s coach read the riot actlast week, they say; dumped two men out of the boat and raked every oneover the coals. Oh, well, we’ll know all about it in a couple of weeks.”
“I wish I was as certain of exams as I am that we’ll beat St. Eustace,”said Trevor. “By the way, Dick, the pater’s coming up for class dayto see you graduate. Stewart, they’re going to draw for the tennistournament to-night in Chandler’s room.”
“How many entries are there?” asked Carl.
“Twenty-two. I hope I don’t get drawn for the preliminary round, that’sall. I’d hate to get thrown out of it so early and have no----”
“There she goes,” said Stewart, jumping up.
The bell in the tower rang lazily, and the four entered AcademyBuilding for two o’clock recitations.
May had slipped into June, and June had brought fresh impetus in everyoutdoor pursuit. The school was rowing mad, just as it always was inJune, and every day groups of fellows congregated at the boat-houseor watched the proceedings from the path above. The trying period ofinstruction in a pair-oar at the hands of Malcolm Kirk or, as uponoccasions, at those of Dick, was over and practice had simmered downto businesslike work in stretches of from an hour to two hours eachday. It wasn’t all rowing; often the men leaned motionless over theiroars while Kirk from the deck of the little Terrible talked to themfor a quarter of an hour at a time on the error of their way. Always,nowadays, there was ten minutes or so of practicing starts; often thevarsity and second were drawn up on the mark, and were given the wordtogether; and alas for the boat that was behind at the tenth stroke!But it was the best of training, and the proficiency in quick startingwhich they finally secured stood them in good stead later.
There was less fault-finding on the part of the coach with the fellowsas individuals now. The work as a whole received the bulk of hisattention, and the most serious fault he had to contend with was atendency to raise the stroke by rushing the body forward instead ofputting more force into the pull through. There were lesser faults,besides; plenty of them; there was probably never yet a perfectcrew, and certainly Hillton’s varsity was in no danger of becomingone. But on the whole the fellows rowed well, making the most of thelong stroke, taking kindly enough to the rather severe leg-work, andgradually acquiring the ability to spurt quickly and evenly. For this,naturally, much credit belonged to Dick, who, at stroke, displayedwonderful steadiness, and inspired the crew with a sensat
ion of balanceand security that promised to accomplish much in time of stress.Taylor, at Number 7, worked with Dick as one cog-wheel works withanother, and Kirk was well satisfied with the stern of the varsity boatat least. In the waist a source of some trial was Waters, who of latehad displayed a tendency to clip his stroke. Trevor was doing finelyat Number 4, and had vindicated Kirk’s first impression of him, andProfessor Beck’s as well, and, for that matter, his own. But perhapsthe best feature displayed by the crew was a hearty willingness towork; there were no sluggards in the boat, and an earnest resolve towrest victory from St. Eustace inspired all.
Taylor had kept his promise, though Dick, to be sure, had neverdoubted that he would do so. In the course of time the sprained kneewas pronounced healed, and he had taken his place in the boat againand had fitted into it in such a way that Dick was convinced that hissacrifice, had it been necessary, would not have been too dear a priceto pay for the other’s return. The two saw but little of each otheroutside of training, and the trouble that had threatened Hillton withdefeat on the water was never alluded to by either. If they were notfriends neither were they enemies, and each had risen in the other’sestimation.