Roy Taylor’s work was apparent when on the following Tuesday afternoon the candidates for the crew reported in the rowing-room at the gymnasium. Dick counted the assemblage over twice, but could make no more than nineteen, a sorry showing compared with last year; twenty men—including himself—from which to select two eights! But he was careful 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 I guess 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. “But I 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 that are coming.”

“Bless me, this won’t do! How many—four, six, ten,[71] sixteen, twenty? Twenty men for two crews. What do you fellows think we’re going to race with 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 that the professor was thoroughly vexed.

“Hope, you’ll have to go among the fellows and work up some interest in the crews; and Taylor, you’re an old-crew man, you do the same; and the rest of you, too, I want you all to talk rowing, and next week I want as 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 Captain Hope.” And the professor withdrew to a window, where he polished his glasses vigorously and made a number of the new candidates very nervous by the critical way in which he studied them.

“I’d like every fellow’s name before he leaves,” said Dick. “And I want to see every one here promptly at three o’clock next Wednesday afternoon. Meanwhile those of you who haven’t been examined for crew work will please attend to it. Have you set any special days, professor?”

“Yes, to-morrow and Saturday afternoons,” answered the latter, “between four and six.”

“You new fellows must understand that permits to take part in baseball and track games won’t answer for rowing,[72] so please see Mr. Beck to-morrow if possible; if not, on Saturday. I hope that you’ll do as Mr. Beck has requested; I mean try and work up more of an interest in rowing; every fellow ought to be able to bring at least one other fellow with him next Wednesday. We’ve got a hard proposition before us 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 it means lots of hard work, and any fellow that’s afraid of work might as well pull out now, for we can’t have any shirking. Last spring there was a good deal of trouble at the first of the season because the candidates—some of them, that is—tried to get out of preliminary work. That won’t do; the work on the weights at the beginning of the season is really important, and it’s got to be faced; and I tell you now 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 hope there won’t be next Wednesday. I guess that’s all I have to say. I hope every fellow will bear in mind the fact that in trying for the crew 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 Hillton than by honest, sincere work on the crews. And it doesn’t make any difference whether he makes the varsity boat or the second; in either case he’s doing his best, doing his duty; for the fellow that rows with the second eight is helping to turn out a winning crew almost as much as[73] though he rowed in the race with St. Eustace. I hope we’ll all pull together this year and that there won’t be any discord. I’ll do my level best, and I’ll trust you fellows to do yours; and if that is so I defy 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 the face from his effort, smiled, and drawing a tablet from his pocket, proceeded to take the fellows’ names. Professor Beck settled his glasses again on his nose and approached a youth who during the proceedings had been perched comfortably on the top of a radiator, but who, having secured the entry of his name in the list of candidates, was now examining with interest the working of one of the rowing machines.

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