CHAPTER XV
THE OLD GRADUATE
"Say, did you think to bring any spoons, Tom?"
"What about the condensed milk?"
"And say, Tom, this isn't a good brand of coffee!"
"What made you get all canned corn? Why didn't you include some beans,Tom?"
"Say, if I've got to eat coffee with my fingers I'm going to quit rightnow!"
"Look here, Tom! Didn't I say I wanted a soft cot? You've given me oneas hard as a board. I won't stand for it!"
You can easily imagine the scene. The boys had arrived in camp, and werejust unpacking. The tents--sleeping and dining--had been erected aftermuch labor, and with the aid of Senor Mendez, who courteously offeredhis services.
"And for the love of the seven wonders of the world, Tom, what made youbuy this brand of canned chicken?" demanded Sid, who was opening a case.
Tom Parsons put down the blanket he was taking out of a trunk. He strodeto the middle of the tent, put his hands on his hips, surveyed his threechums, and began:
"Say, look here, you fellows! I've done most of the work around thisoutfit. I saw to it that the baggage didn't go astray when you chapswere trying to flirt with those pretty girls in the train! I ordered allthe eats, and most of the other stuff. I got Mendez to give us a hand,though none of you wanted me to. I've looked after everything from A toZ and you fellows have been loafing. And now you jump on me because Ididn't get mock-turtle soup instead of mulligatawny. You don't like thekind of coffee, and I suppose you'll faint if you don't have condensedmilk.
"Say, don't you want finger bowls? Will you have paper napkins, orjust the plain fringed style? Do you want your shaving water hot everymorning, and what time shall I have the 'bawth' ready? Are your nailsmanicured? If not, I guess I can find time to do that. Would you likesilk pajamas, or will linen do? And if there's anything more that youconfounded dudes want in this camp--just get it yourselves--I'm done!DONE! Do you hear? I'm through!" and, fairly shouting the words Tomstalked out of the tent and went and sat down on a log near the edge ofLake Tonoka.
The other three stared at each other in amazement. The rebellion oftheir chum had come like a thunderbolt out of a clear sky.
"Er--what did--what did we do?" faltered Sid.
"Did you ever hear the like?" came from Phil.
"He's mad all right--clear through," spoke Frank. "I guess we have beenrather piling it on."
"It's the first time I ever knew Tom to act like this," said Phil,soberly.
"He has done a lot of work," put in Sid.
"And we have been finding a deal of fault," added Frank.
"How can we square him?" asked Phil.
"You go out and talk to him, Frank," proposed Sid.
"No, I've got a better scheme than that," came from the Big Californian."Let's finish slicking up in here ourselves, go on and get grubourselves, and then invite him in. He'll see we didn't mean all we said,then."
"Good idea," declared Phil.
"We'll do it," agreed Sid.
Thereupon, paying no more attention to the justly sulking lad by thewater's edge, the three chums shortly had the sleeping tent in some kindof shape. An oil stove had been brought, and on this some coffee wassoon steaming away, while the appetizing odor of ham and eggs wafteditself over the camp.
Through it all Tom never turned his head, nor did his companions speakto him. He must have heard what was going on, but he never acknowledgedit. With merry whistles his chums drove away the suggestion of gloom.
"Grub's ready!" came the announcement of Frank, as he walked over towardTom. "Wilt your most gracious majesty deign to partake of our humblefare?" and he dropped on one knee, and offered to Tom, on a plate, aslice of bread.
For a moment the tall pitcher held out against the envoy, and then afaint smile broke over his face.
"If you fellows are done finding fault," he said, "I'll come in andhelp. But I don't like to do all the work, and then have it rubbed inthe way you chaps did."
"That's right, we did lay it on a bit thick," admitted Frank, contritely.
"And I got a bit hot under the collar," spoke Tom, confessing in histurn.
"Come on and eat," urged Frank. "The stuff is getting cold. It isn'tsuch bad coffee after all."
"I paid enough for it," retorted Tom.
And thus the little cloud was blown away. Soon all were eating merrily.The meal being finished, they began to get the cots in shape, for itwas drawing on to afternoon.
The boys had two large tents, one for eating, and the other for sleepingin, and lounging during the day. A smaller one served as kitchen andstoreroom.
By evening they were in good shape, and accepted an invitation to takesupper at one of the cottages, the owner of which with his wife anddaughters, had learned that the boys were friends of the Tylers, who hadnot yet arrived.
"Well, now for a good snooze!" exclaimed Tom, as they got back to theirtent that night, having spent a pleasant evening with the Prudens.
"Did you bring any mosquito netting?" asked Phil. "If you didn't I----"
"Silence!" warned Frank. "A certain amount of mosquito bites will do usgood--put ginger into us for the rowing game."
"All right--all right!" cried Phil, quickly. "I didn't mean that," andhe looked quickly at Tom, fearing a return of the morning outbreak.
"When are the girls coming?" asked Sid, as he began to get ready to turnin.
"What do you care?" asked Tom, quickly. "Didn't I see you trying to holdthe hand of that youngest Miss Pruden under the table?"
"Oh, fie!" cried Frank.
"I was not!" cried Sid, indignantly. "She had lent me her ring, and itwas so small I couldn't easily get it off again. She was trying to helpme."
"Say, when you tell 'em, tell 'em good and big!" laughed Tom. "'When arethe girls coming?' Say, you're a nice one, you are, and----"
Tom ducked in time to avoid the shoe Sid threw at him.
"Easy, fellows," cautioned Phil. "There are other people on the islandbesides us, and they may want to go to sleep."
"Then make him dry up!" demanded Sid.
"I'll be good," promised Tom. "But when you hold hands don't be afraidto admit it. I----"
The other shoe came in his direction with such poor aim that the candlewas knocked over, the lanterns not yet being in service.
"Cheese it!" warned Frank. "You'll have the place on fire. Light amatch, somebody."
All began groping about in the dark tent.
"Oh, for the love of tripe!" suddenly exclaimed Tom.
"What's the matter?" asked Phil.
"I stuck my foot in the water bowl!" exclaimed the lad. "It was on thefloor. I'm as wet as a duck."
"Serves you right!" declared Sid vindictively.
"'Be good, sweet lad, and let who will be clever,'" misquoted Phil witha chuckle.
But finally order was restored, and our friends fell into a deep sleep.
"Well, what's doing to-day?" asked Sid, after breakfast.
"I vote we take a trip down to college, and see if any of the fellowsare there rowing," proposed Frank. "If we can't scare up enough to makethe eight, we can take out one of the fours."
"Second the motion," came from Tom, and the others agreed, too.
They rowed down leisurely, being a bit stiff, not only from theirunusual exertions in making camp, but also because they were out ofpractice. But finally Randall was reached, and, to their disappointment,they found only one or two lads there, practicing in the singles. Theyall declined to take a try in the eight, as they were going in for thesculling races. Anyhow, there would not have been enough for an eightwith a coxswain.
"We'll have to take a four," said Tom, with a sigh. "Frank, you'll haveto steer, as you can do it better than any of us."
A four-oared shell, as I explained, and as doubtless most of you know,is steered by a mechanical arrangement, worked by the feet of one of therowers.
Soon the four chums were pulling down the river, gaining in skill eachmoment
, as the memory of what Coach Lighton had said recurred to them.
They rowed a good distance, and then drew up at a private float andgot out to stretch their legs. As they were about to put off again, anelderly man, with a pleasant face, approached and asked:
"From Boxer Hall?"
"From Randall," replied Tom.
"Ah, yes, I noticed you rowing in. I think you might improve your strokea little if you would feather differently. You don't turn your handsquite at the proper time."
"You must be an old oarsman?" said Tom.
"Well, I've been in the game. I used to row at Cornell years ago.Pierson is my name."
"Are you _that_ Pierson?" cried Frank, remembering the name as that ofone of the best scullers Cornell ever turned out.
"I'm afraid I am," was the smiling answer.
"Say," burst out Sid. "Would you mind watching us a bit, and telling usour mistakes? We're new at it, as you probably noticed," he went on,"and Randall is just getting into the water sports. We want to beatBoxer Hall. Can you give us a few points?"
"Where are you staying?" asked Mr. Pierson.
"On Crest Island--we're camping there."
"So! Well, as it happens, I have friends there, and I have been invitedto spend part of the Summer there. If I come I shall be glad to tell youwhat I know of rowing, and coach you a bit. It is the best sport in theworld!" and Mr. Pierson's eyes sparkled as though he would like to getin the shell himself.
"That will be fine!" exclaimed Tom. "We shall look for you."
They talked a little longer, the old oarsman giving them some goodadvice about training. Then he bade them good-bye, and walked off up thehill leading from the river.
The boys got in the shell again, intending to row to Randall, and thenback to their camp.
As they neared the college float, and noted the activity of the menbuilding the new boathouse, Sid exclaimed:
"Look who's here!"
"Who?" asked Tom.
"Bossy, by all that's tragic! He's just taking out a single shell. Iwonder if he's going to the island?"
The Eight-Oared Victors: A Story of College Water Sports Page 16
