The Eight-Oared Victors: A Story of College Water Sports

by Lester Chadwick

  CHAPTER I

  GREAT NEWS

  "And after this--the deluge, I suppose," quoted Tom Parsons as he gazedmoodily out of the window of his study, and watched the raindropssplashing on the ledge, running down the pipe, and forming one of manystreams that trickled over the green college campus. "Is it never goingto stop?" he went on, turning toward his three chums. "It's rainednow----"

  "Oh, for the love of differential calculus!" cried Phil Clinton, "can'tyou talk of anything but the weather, Tom? I'm sick of hearing itdiscussed."

  "No sicker than I am of hearing it pour," retorted the first speaker.

  "The rain certainly does seem to stick around," added Sid Henderson, ashe endeavored to arise from a decrepit armchair--one of the twins--thatadded comfort to the college study. "I'm so damp, and altogether gluey,that it's all I can do to get up. Lend me a hand somebody!" he appealed.

  "'Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears!'" recited Tom in thebest schoolboy style. "Can't you manage to assist yourself, Sid; or areyou getting too fat?"

  "Fat! Huh! I guess if you'd trained the way I did for those track gamesyou wouldn't be fat!" was shot out in protest.

  "Train! Listen to him, Phil. Just because he won his big jump he thinksthat's all there is. Why----"

  "Hold on," put in Phil, quietly. "You fellows will get on each other'snerves if you continue. And you're certainly getting on mine. How doyou expect me to bone away if you're going on like this? That fussyalarm clock is bad enough--I don't know why we tolerate the old thinganyhow--but when you two get to scrapping, and this confounded rainnever lets up, why it's the extreme edge, so to speak."

  "It is the rain, I guess," spoke Tom Parsons, in a low voice. "It'senough to get on anyone's nerves. A straight week now," and he drummedon the wet window-pane, while Phil turned over on an old sofa, thatcreaked dismally, and tried to get a better light on his book. But thegloom outside seemed to have found a place in the study room.

  "Easy on that ancient and honorable piece of furniture!" cautioned Tom,as he looked anxiously at the sofa, which seemed to groan in protest atPhil's weight. "It won't stand much more mending, and that's no idledream."

  "Don't worry," said Phil, easily. "I think as much of this sofa as anyof you."

  "Um!" grunted Tom moodily, as he crossed over to the other armchairand threw himself into it at no small risk of going through the seat."What's a fellow to do?" he asked.

  Neither of his chums answered him. Sid had managed to rise withoutanyone's aid, and was examining a pile of books, as though trying topick out the one containing the easiest lessons.

  "Where's Frank?" asked Tom, after a silence.

  "I saw the Big Californian crossing the campus awhile ago," repliedPhil, closing his book and yawning. "He was bundled up in a raincoat,and seemed as chipper as a clam at high tide."

  "Wish I had the spunk to go out," commented Sid. "The river must benearly flood-high by this time, with all the water that's fallen."

  "Water! Ugh! Don't mention it," begged Tom.

  Silence reigned in the room, broken only by the ticking of the fussylittle alarm clock. There was the rustle of the pages, as the two lads,studying, turned to various lessons. Tom got up with an impatientexclamation, and passed into one of the four small bedrooms that openedout of the main study.

  "I think I'll take a chance and go out!" he announced. "It's as dull asditchwater in here. You fellows are about as cheerful as a wake."

  "Um!" grunted Phil. Sid did not take the trouble to reply.

  "That's right. Be grumpy!" said Tom, sarcastically.

  Clearly the weather was getting on the nerves of all of them. And smallwonder, for it had rained almost steadily for a week, and the stonepiles that made up Randall College seemed soaked through to the verywall paper. The campus was like a sponge, and the walks, where they werenot gravel, were ribbons of mud.

  "Lucky we got our Spring games over with, before this flood set in,"went on Tom.

  There was no answer.

  "What's the matter; have you fellows lost your tongues?" he demanded,sharply.

  He paused in the act of slipping off a lounging coat preparatory toputting on an outdoor garment. Sid and Phil avoided his glance. At thatmoment the door into the hall opened and there stepped into the study abig lad, attired in a raincoat, that dripped moisture at every seam.

  "Hello, Duck!" greeted Sid with a cheerful grin.

  "Where have you been, Frank?" asked Tom. "I was just coming out to joinyou."

  Evidently this was Frank Simpson, the "Big Californian," the reason forthe nickname being obvious.

  "Come ahead--all of you," invited Frank. "It isn't so bad, and I guessit's going to clear up."

  "I believe you're right!" agreed Tom, and there was an instant change inhis voice. "It has almost stopped. Come on!" he cried. "You fellows stopboning, and we'll make a party of it. It's early yet, only the cloudsmake it seem dark."

  "Wait a minute," suggested Frank, as he saw that the others were likelyto fall in with Tom's idea. "Have you fellows heard the news?"

  "Has Moses granted a Roman holiday?" asked Sid.

  "Or has Pitchfork consented to resign?" added Phil.

  "Neither one. This is the greatest news ever. And it's just the kindof a day to impart it, for it has to do with water. Fellows, do youthink Randall could get into the rowing game--I mean as it ought tobe gotten into? Do you think we could make up a crew--or two crewsfor that matter--an eight and four--that could put it all over BoxerHall and Fairview Academy? Do you think we could turn out somefour-and-eight-oared victors?"

  Frank paused in his enthusiastic questions, and gazed at his chumsthrough a mist of moisture that seemed to emanate from his damp person.

  "Do you?" he repeated, for they were silent.

  "What does he mean?" asked Tom.

  "He speaketh in riddles," added Phil.

  "Mayhap he but jesteth," came from Sid.

  "No joke at all," said Frank with a smiling good nature. "This is thevery latest news, and I think I'm one of the first fellows to hear it.Listen and I will a tale unfold."

  "Well, as long as it's only a tale you're going to unfold, and not thatwet raincoat, proceed, most noble Brutus," begged Tom.

  "Oh, let up with the jollying, and let's hear the news," suggested Phil.

  "In brief, then, it's this," went on Frank. "A number of old grads,who, it seems, used to be fonder of rowing and sculling than anythingelse when they were at Randall, have had a meeting, and they decided tosubscribe ten thousand dollars to fit us up with a dandy boathouse andshells--that is if we'll consent to accept----"

  "Accept! I guess yes, with running shoes on!" cried Phil.

  "There's a sort of a string attached to it," went on Frank.

  "What is it? Do we have to raise an additional ten thousand dollars?"asked Tom, suspiciously.

  "No, nothing as hard as that. But we have to form a regular rowingassociation, and promise to work our level best to be the champions ofthe river and lake. Shall we do it?"

  For a moment there was silence. And then Tom cried:

  "Of course we will!"

  "Why shouldn't we?" demanded Phil.

  "Say, this is great!" came from Sid. "Randall going to have a crew atlast! It's about time. But I say," he went on, "it's too late this termto think of it. Why we only have a few more weeks before the Summervacation."

  "I know it," replied Frank, "and the idea is to get things in shape theremainder of this term, and have a regatta early in the Fall, before thefootball season opens. I think we can induce Boxer Hall and Fairview toenter into that sort of agreement, even if those two colleges do roweach other every Spring."

  "Good idea," commented Tom.

  "Say, Frank, how comes it that you know all this?" asked Sid.

  "Merely by accident," answered the Big Californian. "I was coming acrossthe campus just now, plowing along through the water with my head down,and I ran plump into Moses and Dr. Marshall. I begged their pardons, ofcour
se, and was about to go on when Moses, looking at the doctor, said:

  "'Perhaps we had better tell him, and have him sound some of theothers.'"

  "I began to pick up my ears at that and wonder what was in the wind.And when Dr. Marshall came back with: 'It wouldn't be a bad idea,' Iknew something was up. The upshot of it was that Moses took me into hisconfidence. Ahem!" and Frank swelled up his chest.

  "Go on, you rooster!" commanded Tom.

  "Tell us about the crew," begged Sid.

  "Well, that's it. Dr. Churchill said he had just received the offer froma number of the wealthy old grads. who, it seems, got together, had asort of meeting, and voted that the decline of water activity at RandallCollege was a shame.

  "It seems that they used to be regular sharks at rowing in their day,and they passed a resolution that, whereas Randall had done well atbaseball, football and in track athletics, nevertheless she was a backnumber when it came to rowing.

  "Therefore, 'be it resolved, and it is hereby resolved,' and all thatsort of thing, you know. Then they subscribed the ten thousand dollars,and the only condition is that we promise to do our best to becomechampions."

  "Which we'll do without question," said Tom.

  "Of course," added Phil.

  "But it's going to take a lot of work," commented Sid. "We'll need allthe time between now and Fall to get in shape. But what can we practicein? We haven't any decent shells."

  "We can get some second-hand ones for practice," said Frank, "and Iunderstand the old grads will have the new ones ready for us in theFall, together with the new boathouse. We can also practice during ourvacation."

  "Good!" cried Tom. "It makes me feel better already. I want to get outon the water right now."

  "And a little while ago you thought there was altogether too muchwater," commented Phil, drily.

  "Oh, well," excused Tom, with a shrug of his shoulders. "I say, it isclearing!" he cried. "Come on down and get into a boat. Even one of theold tubs will answer, and we can talk this thing over."

  "That's what I came in to propose," said Frank. "As we are among theolder students here, it will be sort of up to us to spread the idea. Ithink everybody will take to it, though."

  "It's about time we took a fall out of Boxer Hall on the water,"declared Sid. "Fairview isn't in it so much, though she came mighty nearbeating Boxer in the eight one year."

  The rain had ceased, there probably being no more water left in thesky, as Sid remarked. The four chums--the "Inseparables," as they werecalled, slipped off their lounging jackets--at least Sid and Phil did,for Tom already had done so--and soon all were on their way to SunnyRiver, on the bank of which the various buildings of Randall Collegewere situated. Over the soggy campus they took their way, meeting noone, for no one else seemed to have the courage to venture out.

  Though the institution had not boasted of a rowing association, or crew,in some years, there was a boathouse, and a number of craft owned bythe students, and it was toward this structure that our friends betookthemselves.

  "Let's take the big barge," suggested Tom. "Then we can all get in itand talk."

  "It's as heavy as lead," complained Phil. "It will be all right rowingdown stream, but coming back we'll have a hard pull."

  "What of it?" demanded Frank. "It will be good practice for us if we'regoing to try for the crew."

  "That's right, we will have to make tries to see who are the bestoarsmen," remarked Tom. "I wonder if Mr. Lighton is a good coach whenit comes to rowing? I know he's all right at football and baseball,but----"

  "I believe Dr. Churchill mentioned that if we took up this offer, one ofthe old grads, who was a crackerjack oarsman in his day, might come andgive us some pointers," put in Frank.

  "Well, let's get out. Say, but the river is high, though," Tomexclaimed, as they came in sight of the stream. The rain of the pastweek had raised it considerably, and it was now rushing swiftly along,a muddy stream, far from bearing out its name--Sunny.

  "The barge is as safe as a ferry-boat," commented Sid. "It can't upset."

  "All right, I'm game," declared Tom. "Let's row down to Tonoka Lake, andsee what's going on there."

  This lake was a large body of water into which the river emptied--infact it was more like the widening of the stream than a real lake, but alake it was called in spite of that. In its centre was Crest Island, ofgood size.

  Soon the four students were in the barge, a four-oared craft, withenough seats so that the quartette could row with an oar each, afterthe manner of those in a shell.

  "Take out the rudder," directed Frank. "We'll have to make our owncourse, for it can't be worked by one's feet as in a four-oared shell."

  Phil unshipped the rudder, and they rowed out into the middle of thestream. It was easy going down with the current, but they realized thatit would be harder coming back. However, they were out for practice asmuch as anything else, and did not mind a stiff pull.

  "I wonder what sort of a stroke we pull?" said Tom, as they rowed on.

  "Oh, we probably have lots of faults," admitted Frank. "But they can becorrected."

  "It's a pretty big chunk to bite off--to think of beating Boxer Hall,where the fellows have been rowing for years, and we just starting in,"commented Sid.

  "Oh, stranger things have happened," declared Tom. "We can do it."

  Then began a spirited discussion of the splendid offer that had beenmade to Randall, and a talk as to what the other students would think ofit. The four chums were enthusiastic over the prospect.

  "Say," called Tom, after a bit. "This is all right, and lots of fun, butwe've come down quite a way, and we've got to think of going back. Thiscurrent is fierce."

  "Quitter!" called Phil.

  "Nothing of the sort--I've got common-sense," was the retort.

  "Tom is right," said Frank Simpson, in a quiet voice. "We mustn't overdothe thing. It is going to be a stiffish pull back, and we don't want tobe late for dinner--I don't anyhow."

  They had rowed down to where the river widened into the lake. There wasa Summer picnic ground near here, and on the higher slopes of land, backfrom the water, were a number of fine residences, the estates runningdown to the shore edge. Many of the places had boathouses.

  As the boys came opposite one of these they saw a small motor-boat turnin toward a shelter, the doors of which were open. There was a lone manin the boat, and he skillfully directed her course across the current.

  "Let's pull over there and rest before going back," suggested Sid,and the others agreed. They reached the boathouse and dock in time tosee the man in the motor-boat close and lock the door, with his craftinside. Apparently he did not notice the boys, who were working to getin on the downstream side of the float, so they could be out of thecurrent for a little while.

  "There," remarked the man from the motor-boat, as he walked out of theshore-door of the house, also locking that after him, "I guess thingswill be safe in there until I come back. I won't be gone long. MaybeI ought to take them with me but they're heavy, and I've got to go uphill--I guess I'll leave them," and he started up the slope from theriver, toward a fine residence on the hill.

  "He must have money in the bank--talking to himself that way," remarkedTom, in a low voice.

  "I wonder what it is he's leaving in his boat?" spoke Phil.

  "He trusts us, anyhow," laughed Frank.

  "He didn't see us," came from Sid. "Anyhow the place is locked."

  The boys rested there by the boathouse for several minutes.

  Tom was about to propose that they start back, for it looked cloudyagain, as if the rain would begin once more. But before he could mentionthis fact Sid exclaimed:

  "Here comes the Boxer Hall shell! Say, look at those fellows row!"

  "They are hitting up the pace!" agreed Frank.

  All looked to see a fine eight-oared shell fairly scudding over thewater under the impulse of the sixteen sturdy arms of the rowers.

  "We'll soon be doing that," said Phil, in a low voice
. And then some ofthe lads in the shell looked over and saw our friends.