Captain of the Crew by Ralph Henry Barbour
CHAPTER XXV
“ARE YOU READY? GO!”
HILLTON
NAME. Position. Age. Weight.
R. F. Hope Stroke 17 134 R. M. Taylor 7 18 150 R. Crocker 6 17 165 C. H. Waters 5 16 142 T. Nesbitt 4 16 149 W. H. Cheever 3 17 148 J. Whitman 2 17 147 R. L. Shield Bow 17 126 S. M. Keene Coxswain 17 110 ---- ---- Average for eight 16? 145?
ST. EUSTACE
B. Downs Stroke 18 147 H. L. Price 7 17 142 A. J. Richardson 6 17 145 T. Wells 5 16 162 P. H. Garrity 4 17 161 A. R. Noland 3 16 143 R. F. Gerstner 2 18 139 W. A. Overton Bow 17 133 D. E. Perine Coxswain 18 98 ---- ---- Average for eight 17 146½
Trevor read the tables and laid down the copy of the Marshall MorningReporter with a sigh and stared across the little lawn at the villagestreet. Muggins worried the newspaper for a moment, and then,observing Trevor’s attitude, cuddled up to him in sympathy, and thumpedthe porch floor with what, had it been in his power, he would havecalled his tail. The paper fluttered off across the gravel driveway,and he cocked his ears, meditating pursuit; but Trevor’s hand had nowfound his head; the sun was warm; it was comforting to be rubbed; andso he only blinked sleepily and sat quiet.
Saturday, the 15th of June, had dawned warm and clear. Over the river alittle blue mist hung until a strong breeze swept across the water fromthe west, kicking up quite a rumpus along the eastern shore. The townwas already well filled with visitors, among them not a few graduatesof Hillton and St. Eustace, who had arrived the preceding evening.The quiet old village was decked in holiday attire, and its shrewdinnkeepers and merchants were rubbing their hands in anticipation ofthe yearly harvest.
Three of the Hillton crew had complained at the breakfast table thatmorning of having lame backs, while Talbot, a substitute, was clearlyout of the question, having no appetite and not a little fever.
“I always said there was malaria in this place,” complained Kirk, “it’sso low. We had some trouble last year, do you remember, Hope? Bensonwas attacked with fever, although it left him at noon and he was allright again. That’s where St. Eustace has the better of us; she’s usedto this place, and we’re not. I believe it wouldn’t be a half bad plannext year to leave coming here until the morning of the race.”
And Trevor, sitting on the edge of the porch, engaged with Muggins’sears, heard and was comforted. He had awoke that morning after anunrefreshing sleep with a most uncomfortable sensation of goneness anda bewildering heaviness in his head. His eyes seemed tired, as thoughhe had been reading long and hard, his lips were parched, and as themorning went on a feeling of feverishness alarmed him. At breakfast hehad forced himself to eat, much against the inclination of his stomach,for fear that Kirk would perceive his condition and keep him out of theboat. He was not used to illness, and was inclined to attribute hisunpleasant condition to nervousness. And now Kirk’s words encouragedhim; it was quite likely that he had got into a similar condition tothat of the unknown Benson; if so it would be all right when noon came;all he had to do was to look cheerful so that Kirk wouldn’t discoverhis state. So he grinned as broadly as possible, and whistled one ofhis tuneless tunes. And for a time his indisposition really left him,or very nearly did so, and during the hour of easy work on the riverand the subsequent fifteen minutes of starting practice he was able towork well and even brilliantly, and was certain that his illness waspast.
The race was down for half-past three. After work in the shell wasover and the craft was safe in the little boat-house some half milefrom the hotel, the crew and substitutes, with the exception of theunfortunate Talbot, were taken on a long, unhurried walk along theriver under the guidance of Kirk, who tried to keep their thoughts asmuch as possible off of the coming contest. The nervousness that hadbegun to make its appearance gradually subsided under the soothinginfluence of quiet country lanes and wood paths, and at twelve thefellows returned to the hotel looking fresh and untroubled.
The hostelry meanwhile had filled with a merry and excited throngof Hillton boys and graduates, and had become a veritable blaze ofcrimson. Muggins was beside himself with delight; never before had hereceived so much attention; he welcomed each new arrival with franticbarks of joy, and scampered about from one group to another, hisbrilliant blanket flashing restlessly hither and thither. Carl andStewart and Todd and Williams and everybody else, apparently, had comedown for the race, and all was tumult and laughter and handshaking. OldHillton fellows who had not met for a year or more shouted greetings toeach other across the corridor or struggled madly through the throngsto clap each other on the back. Into this scene pushed the returningcrew, and as their presence was discovered the crowd broke into ringingcheers, and pressed about them, eager for a word with or a look at theyoungsters upon whose broad shoulders rested their hopes.
At last, however, they managed to reach the parlor on the secondfloor, into whose sacred precincts admission was denied to allelse. Trevor sank into a chair with a smothered groan. The formerindisposition had returned with all its former force, and for a momenthe sat dazed and faint. When he looked up he found Dick’s eyes upon himanxiously.
“What’s the matter, chum?”
Trevor smiled with an effort.
“Nothing, I fancy; just a bit--a bit tired.”
“Well, sneak off upstairs and lie down a while, like a good chap. Wecan’t have you going off, old fellow. Talbot’s the only chap that wouldbe fit for your place, and he’s as limp as a rag. Take a rest beforedinner.”
Trevor obeyed, and spent the next quarter of an hour at full length onhis bed in the room which he shared with Dick and two others. He shuthis eyes resolutely, telling himself that he would be all right after anap. But sleep refused to come, and he lay and wondered over and overwhether he would be able to take his place in the boat. If he wasn’tpoor old Dick would be in a hard way, he thought. There were threesubstitutes there besides Talbot, but not one of them was accustomed torowing at Number 4, and, for that matter, not one was fitted for theposition. All he could do, he resolved, was to fight down the beastlysickness; once in the boat, he felt certain he would be able to do hiswork. Besides, there was the case of Benson; to be sure, it was alreadynoon, and his fever, instead of taking itself off, seemed rather tobe increasing; but perhaps he had it a little worse than Benson, andit would take longer to disappear. He pressed his hands hard over hisforehead in a vain endeavor to ease his headache, and tried his bestto go to sleep. And then the dinner gong sounded, and he made a hastytoilet and joined the rest in the parlor, where a private table wasspread. The meal was a sorry affair. Even the fellows who had rowedagainst St. Eustace the year before showed signs of nervousness,while some of the less experienced were in a blue funk. Kirk workedheroically to keep their spirits up, but it was of no avail in mostcases, and there was a palpable air of relief when the meal was overand they were free to hide their feelings by moving about and talkingto their heart’s content. A half-hour later the march to the boat-housewas begun, and a crowd of admirers followed in their wake. Once intheir places much of the nervousness wore off, and, cheered by thethrong on shore, Hillton’s crew paddled out into the stream and setleisurely off for the start.
In the open air Trevor’s headache lessened, and he felt much better.Dick, who had been plainly anxious about him, found encouragement fromhis fresher looks and heaved a sigh of relief. As they paddled slowlyup the river a sound of distant cheering reached them, and at a commandfrom Keene they rested upon their oars and glanced up-stream and acrossto the St. Eustace boat-house. The rival eight were stepping i
“There’s a good deal of splashing there,” said Dick.
“Yes.” Keene watched the oncoming crew attentively. “Yes, port side’sterribly ragged. But they look a powerful lot. Touch her easy, Seven.That’ll do.”
At a little distance up-stream the St. Eustace shell made a wide turn,the eight rowers for a moment resting upon their oars and sending ahearty cheer across the blue water. Hillton returned the compliment andher rival moved away again.
“They look a bit heavier than us,” said Shield from the bow of the boat.
“Only about a pound,” answered Dick, watching the shell creepup-stream; “that is, according to their weights, you know. But I’llwager that Richardson weighs more than a hundred and forty-five.”
“Yes, and Wells is more than seventeen years old,” said Taylor.
“I dare say. What time is it, Keene?”
“Five after.”
“Well, let’s go up. By Jove, fellows, what a day for it!” Dick took adeep breath of the brisk, invigorating air, sweet with the fragrance oflush meadows and moist woods, and turned smilingly to Taylor. “How doyou feel?”
“Too good to describe,” answered Number 7 heartily. “I could row tenmiles instead of two.”
“Good boy,” said Dick. He gazed up the length of the shell. Answeringsmiles met him from bright eyes and glowing faces, save in one case.Trevor grinned broadly; he even essayed a wink; but the grin wassomewhat awry and the wink was a poor thing. Dick frowned, and,turning, gripped his oar with his exuberance lessened.
“Ready all! Forward! Paddle!”
The shell crept up-stream between banks sprinkled with spectators,hurrying, in most cases, toward the finish line or some midway pointof vantage. At the start quite a throng had assembled to see the boatsget away. The Terrible, bearing a number of Hillton representatives,chugged alongside, and from her deck Kirk gave his last commands inlow tones to Dick and Keene. Then he spoke briefly to the crew, and amoment later both shells backed to the starting-line.
Trevor saw the throng through a light mist. With his hands gripping theoar he stared in growing misery at the neck of Number 5 and waited,wondering for the tenth time how much longer the suspense would last.To the left of him was the St. Eustace boat. The fellows were peelingoff their sweaters and some were whispering. Then Trevor was removinghis own sweater, and the referee was talking to them about something;what it was he didn’t know nor care. If only they would start! Heheard Keene’s voice: “Get ready!” He went forward on his slide, turnedhis blade square in the water, and felt it snug against the thole-pin.
“I shall say ‘Are you ready?’ once; if I receive no reply I shall say‘Go!’”
The referee’s voice came through the megaphone with sudden warning.
“Touch her easy, Two,” said the cox in quiet unconcerned tones.“That’ll do; steady, Two!”
Trevor’s gaze, suddenly roaming to the other boat, saw the rival cox, ared-haired, spidery-looking youth, bending forward, his eyes alert butsteady, his hands gripped tight about the lines. The little throng nearat hand had grown quiet, almost silent. His head ached a bit, and hiseyes----
“_Are you ready?_”
His heart gave a leap that threatened to choke him; then sank quickly,suddenly; he waited--waited. Would the word never come? The breeze wasruffling the back of Waters’s shirt. The sun was very bright, and thesmall waves reflected its rays in the manner of a thousand mirrors.Surely the referee had----
“GO!”
There was a rush of blades through the water, a sudden leap, a confusedrattling of many oars, a seething on every side, a shouting from bankand boats. The race was on!