Captain of the Crew by Ralph Henry Barbour
CHAPTER X
BUYING AN ICE-YACHT
“An ice-yacht,” observed Carl learnedly, “is the nearest approach atthe present age to a flying-machine.”
“And I never cared a bit about flying,” answered Dick, withoutenthusiasm.
The two, with Trevor and Stewart Earle, were gathered close about thefireplace in Number 16 Masters. Two good hickory logs were cracklingmerrily, and, although owing to the fact that the steam-heatingapparatus was evidently on a strike and their backs were constantlycaressed by shivers, their knees and faces were radiantly warm; andthat was sufficient comfort. A huge paper bag was perched on the table,and the quartet were busily munching big, rosy apples, while close tothe ashes four more were sizzling and sputtering in the heat. They hadstarted out with the intention of having a feast of roasted apples, buthad found that the roasting process was too slow to meet the demands oftheir appetites, and so were keeping down the pangs of starvation inthe interims by consuming the fruit as Nature had meant they should.
“An ice-yacht,” continued Carl, undismayed, “can be put together veryeasily and cheaply. All you have to have is four pieces of timberand----”
“Look here, Carl,” interrupted Dick impolitely, “the last thing youmade was a toboggan, and it cost about nine dollars before you werethrough with it, and you could have bought a _good_ one for five.”Stewart giggled and Carl grinned good-naturedly.
“Well, let’s buy one, then,” he replied. “Let’s go down to Euston Pointand see the one this fellow advertises.”
“How much do they cost?” asked Trevor.
“Oh, we could get a second-hand one for fifteen dollars, easy; maybeless. That would be only four dollars apiece, if we all went in. And wecould have the biggest kind of fun! Why, some ice-yachts go as fast asninety miles an hour!”
“Oh, get out!”
“They do; don’t they, Stew?”
“Easy,” answered Stewart gravely. “I’ve seen lots of them do it. Iowned one myself once that could go a hundred and thirty-seven milesin----”
“Shut up, you idiot!” growled Carl. “What do you say, fellows; shallwe see if we can get the boat? Think how jolly grouchy the other chapswould be to see us skipping around and----”
“And breaking our necks,” suggested Trevor.
“Nothing of the sort! Why, it’s not dangerous at all; any one thatknows anything about sailing a yacht can manage an ice-boat.”
“Well, who knows anything about sailing among this crowd? Do you,Trevor?”
Trevor shook his head.
“Not a thing.”
“_I_ do, of course,” interrupted Carl.
“Well,” said Stewart, “as far as I’m concerned I think I’d rather havesome one else than you do it, Carl.”
“Oh, quit fooling; I’m in earnest. Suppose we go to Euston Point nextSaturday and see what’s doing?”
“But, look here,” said Dick, “how do you know Faculty will let us sailthe thing if we get it?”
“Why shouldn’t they? They allow skating; ice-yachting’s justskating--with a difference. Besides, as long as there’s no rule againstit we have a right to do it.”
This argument was incontrovertible, and it was agreed that the fourshould journey to the near-by village of Euston Point the followingSaturday morning. And then Stewart suddenly discovered that the appleson the hearth had been done for some time, and in the business thatfollowed the subject of ice-yachting was forgotten.
When Dick and Trevor returned from supper that evening they found afresh, inky-smelling number of The Hilltonian awaiting them in theletter-box. Dick hurried to the room with it and spread it out underthe light on the table. Yes, Singer had been as good as his word; theleading editorial was headed The Rowing Situation, and was quite inSinger’s best style.
“My!” ejaculated Trevor, who had been reading the article over Dick’sshoulder, “that’s spiffin!”
“It sounds rather well, doesn’t it?” asked Dick, highly gratified bythe effusion. “And you’d think it would bring some of the fellowsround, eh?”
“Bound to; you’ll find slathers of them in the gym to-morrowafternoon,” replied Trevor confidently. “Read it out loud, Hope.”
And Dick did so and Trevor listened admiringly and interpolated anapplauding “Hear, hear!” at intervals, and Dick went to bed veryhopeful of the morrow.
But when at three o’clock the following afternoon he repaired tothe rowing-room his heart sank. Aside from the original nineteencandidates, but the veriest handful were present. Dick counted themgrimly; there were fourteen of them, and for the most part they notonly looked but really were sadly out of their element. A small juniorof perhaps fourteen tried to hide himself in a corner, but Dick routedhim out mercilessly and asked him cruelly if he was a candidate forcoxswain.
“Yes--no--that is, I don’t know,” was the breathless reply. Dick turnedaway and encountered the mocking gaze of Taylor, who, when Dick’s eyeswere turned upon him, smoothed his features into an expression ofrespectful concern and walked forward.
“What an outfit, eh?” he asked softly. But Dick was resolved that theother should not have the satisfaction of knowing his disappointment.He shrugged his shoulders and smiled carelessly.
“Well, they don’t look brilliant; a bit light on an average; but Idare say we’ll be able to find some good material in the lot.” At thatmoment Professor Beck entered. After a slow and careful glance up anddown the long room he looked fleetingly at Dick, frowned, and turnedaway. But he made no remarks upon the showing of candidates save once.
“Mr. Kirk will coach the crews again this year,” he announced, “andwill be with you every Saturday afternoon until the river opens, when,as last year, he will come up to Hillton and stay with you until therace. I expect he will make his first visit a week from next Saturday,and I’m sure”--he glanced blandly over the audience--“I’m sure he willbe greatly pleased with the material he will find.”
Something approaching a shudder passed over the throng, and Dick turnedaside to hide a grim smile. Then the first batch of candidates troopedoff to the locker room to don gymnasium attire, and the new recruitswere registered, instructed to report for examination the followingafternoon, and dismissed looking heartily relieved. When the last onehad gone Professor Beck heaved a sigh and turned to Dick.
“Hope, are you certain there was no mistake made? You’re sure youdidn’t issue a call for candidates for a tiddledy-winks team?” Dicksmiled dismally.
“No, there’s no such luck. We’ve got thirty-four fellows, of which apossible two dozen are rowing material.”
“Hum; I think we shall be able to turn out an excellent second eight,but as for a varsity crew--do you happen to have an idea as to where weare going to get that, Hope?”
“No, sir, I haven’t,” replied Dick miserably. Professor Beck polishedhis glasses thoughtfully for a minute and studied the wintry landscapethrough the high window. Then he smiled, settled the shining lensesagain on his nose, and turned toward the door.
“We’ll have to use our wits, Hope. Above all, don’t allow yourselfto become discouraged. We still have a couple of weeks before us,and--well, I guess we can accomplish something in that time. Are youready?”
Together they passed out onto the floor and in a few minutes the firstsquad of crew candidates had begun their training. Of the twenty,two had rowed in the varsity boat of the preceding year, four hadrowed with the second eight, three had trained as substitutes, andthe balance, eleven candidates, represented new and inexperiencedmaterial as far as shell-rowing was concerned. Well-nigh all were whatTrevor would have termed “wetbobs,” and had paddled about in tubs orperhaps rowed now and then in a pair-oar. Professor Beck and Dick werebusy for the half hour that constituted the first day’s exercising.Generally speaking, each candidate required a different work from hisneighbors. In Brown the forearm muscles were undeveloped; in Smith thechest muscles had been neglected; in Jones the back was as unbendingas a two-inch plank, while
And Dick, with Trevor at his side, went back to his room for an hourof study before supper, not overjoyful, but yet somewhat comforted bythe professor’s hopefulness and by the fact that real work had at lastcommenced.
On Friday night Professor Beck announced to Dick that the fourteennewer candidates had been examined, and in five instances foundwanting. “Of those that remain,” said the professor, “two look likegood men; as for the rest----” He shrugged his shoulders eloquently.“But we can tell better in a week or two. Meanwhile, we must keep upthe recruiting. I have my eye on an upper middle boy, and I think I’llhave him hooked in a day or two. If we can secure say another halfdozen good men I think we can pull out all right.”
The next morning--it being a bright and sunny Saturday toward the lastof January--Dick, Trevor, Carl, and Stewart boarded the train andtraveled to Euston Point, but a few miles distant, where they calledon the man whose advertisement Carl had read in a local paper, and byhim were conducted to a loft by the river, where a dilapidated-lookingtriangle of timbers and bolts--which its owner declared loudly wasthe fastest cat-rigged yacht on the Hudson--was shown to them. Thebargain was soon closed, Carl conducting the negotiations and talkinglearnedly of runner planks, center timbers, and stays. The boat was tobe supplied with a new rudder-post, a new sail and rigging, the runnerswere to be reground, and the whole was to be delivered at the boatlanding at Hillton Academy four days from that date for the munificentsum of seventeen dollars and seventy-five cents. Carl was elated.
“We’ve saved two dollars and a quarter,” he declared.
“I don’t see how,” objected Dick. “You told us last week that we couldget the thing for fifteen dollars.”
“I know I did; that’s what I thought. But you heard him ask twentyat first, didn’t you? Well, and I jewed him down to seventeenseventy-five. Isn’t that two and a quarter saved?”
Dick had to acknowledge that it was, and Carl insisted on celebratinghis successful financiering by treating to very nasty hot soda at thetown’s only drug store. And so to Carl’s business acumen may be tracedthe series of events that led shortly to Trevor’s disgrace.
Their way to the station took them past the open door of a liverystable. When they were abreast of it something round and white shotout, rolled over and over down the little incline, and brought up atTrevor’s feet. It proved to be a young puppy, which, when it stoppedrolling, found its four unsteady feet, barked joyously, and tried tognaw the buttons from Trevor’s trouser cuffs. But he was instantlyseized upon and elevated in Trevor’s arms for the inspection of theothers.
“Isn’t he a little beauty?” cried Trevor.
“Yes; what is he, a fox terrier?” asked Stewart, allowing the squirmingand delighted puppy to chew his gloved fingers to its heart’s content.
“Fox terrier!” replied Trevor scathingly. “Of course not; it’s a bull.Look at that nose!”
“I am looking at it,” answered Dick. “Nice and ugly, isn’t it? Whatmakes it so pink?”
“That’s the way it ought to be,” answered Trevor with fine disdain forhis friend’s ignorance. “I wonder who it belongs to?”
“Belongs right here, sir!” The boys glanced around and found a coloredstableman observing them smilingly from the doorway. Trevor placed thepuppy upon the ground, where it at once relapsed into a state of loudand poignant grief, leaping with snowy feet against his stockings, andcrying vehemently to be again taken up. Trevor patted it, whereupon itsgrief gave place to uncontrollable delight; it stood on its hind legs,buried its short nose in a small snow-bank, and attempted to take theboy’s entire hand into its pink mouth, and all within the instant.
“It’s the liveliest pup I ever saw,” said Carl.
“That’s a fine dog, sir,” said the owner. “His mother took a first andtwo second prizes at the dog show last week, and his father’s got lotsof ’em. Yes, siree, he’s a mighty fine dog, he is.”
“Come on,” said Dick, “we’ll lose the train if we’re not careful.”
But Trevor paid no heed. He was looking intently at the puppy, which,with the boy’s left thumb between his teeth, was radiantly happy.
“He’s got a pedigree as long as yer arm,” continued the stableman.
“Has he?” muttered Trevor.
“He can be registered ter-morrer, he can; he’s blue-blooded rightthrough, he is.”
“Is he?” said Trevor. The puppy was now on its back, legs limply aloft,and Trevor was thoughtfully rubbing a pink-and-white stomach.
“Was you wanting to buy a dog, sir?”
“N-no, I think not,” answered Trevor.
“Say, come on, Nesbitt, or we’ll be late,” cried Carl.
The stableman glanced over his shoulder. “Lots of time, gentlemen;train ain’t due for twelve minutes yet.” Then, addressing Trevor, “Ihad four of them and sold ’em all ’cept this one; an’ he’s the best ofthe lot; an’ cheap, too--dirt cheap.”
“How much?” asked Trevor with elaborate carelessness.
“You can have him for five dollars.”
“Phew!” said Stewart.
“Give you fifty cents,” said Carl. The stableman turned indignantly.
“I reckon you don’t know much about what bulldogs is worth,” he said.“This gentleman here knows that that ain’t too much for a puppy as fineas that one; don’t you, sir?”
“I dare say he’s worth that much,” answered Trevor, “but I couldn’t payit.”
“What would you do with it if you had it?” asked Dick.
“Now, look here; I’ll tell you what I’ll do, sir,” said the stableman.“You can have him for three dollars and a half. And that’s mightycheap, that is.”
Trevor looked longingly at the puppy, who was now for the momentquiescent, and who was gazing up into Trevor’s face as thoughbreathlessly awaiting his verdict.
“I--I’ll give you a dollar to-day and pay you the rest next Saturday,”he said finally.
“You one of the Hillton young gentlemen?” asked the stableman.
“Yes.”
“Well, you can take him along. What’s your name?”
Trevor gave it amid the expostulations of his friends, who askedwonderingly where he expected to keep his new possession, how long hethought Faculty would let him have it, and how he was going to get ithome. To all of which Trevor made no reply. Paying the man the firstinstalment of the money, he seized upon the delighted puppy and strodeoff, fearful lest the former owner should regret the bargain and changehis mind.
“Well, of all things!” ejaculated Dick. “Where in thunder will you keephim?”
“Don’t you worry,” answered Trevor. “I’ll find a place.”
“What’s troubling me,” complained Carl, “is how you’re going to payyour four dollars and forty-four cents toward the yacht and the threedollars and a half for the pup.”
Trevor looked blank.
“I’d forgotten about the yacht,” he muttered.
“Forgotten about it!” cried Carl. “Why, man alive, we just bought itten minutes ago!”
“I know. But--I tell you--I’ll write to the pater; I fancy he’ll sendme money enough for the puppy; he always gives me any money I may needfor useful things.”
The others exploded into violent laughter.
“Call that useful?” gurgled Dick, holding his sides and pointingderisively at the puppy, which lay limp but blissfu
“You’d better hide him under your coat, or else they’ll make youride in the baggage car with him,” cautioned Dick. And so Trevorboarded the train with a suspicious portliness, happily unobservedof the conductor, and, when they had yielded their tickets, drew theuncomplaining puppy from under his sweater.
“I’ll say one thing for it,” remarked Carl grudgingly, “it behavesmighty well, considering that it has just been torn from home andparents.” He held out a hand and the puppy went into spasms of delightover the evidence of friendship and licked the fingers deliriously.“Funny little beggar! How old is it, Trevor?”
“About ten weeks, I fancy.”
“What are you going to call him?” asked Stewart.
Trevor shook his head thoughtfully.
“I don’t know yet. I shall wait until I find something appropriate.”
“Talking about names,” said Carl, “let’s find one for the boat. Thatfellow said she was the Lucy G., but that’s silly and doesn’t meananything.”
“Ought to be something wintry,” suggested Stewart.
“Something like Blizzard, or Snowflake, or Ice King,” added Dick.
“It can’t be any of those,” objected Carl, “because there are heaps ofBlizzards and the other things you said. How would The Polar Bear do?”
Every one sniffed derisively.
“Well,” said Trevor, “if it must be something wintry, what’s the matterwith The Ulster or The Cough Drop?”
“Or The Chilblain?” laughed Dick.
“I think a good name would be The Sleet,” Stewart struck in. “That’swintry enough.”
A vote was taken, and The Sleet carried.
“We can have a sail next Saturday,” suggested Carl.
“So soon?” groaned Dick. “Carl, we’re so young to die!”
“That’s all right, my funny friend, but just you wait until I get tosailing that thing; you’ll see!”
And Carl’s prediction, though vague, proved in a measure correct.