the entire crew none attracted such instant attention as the
stroke-oar, and when they learned that he was an American their
interest in him was doubled.

Of course he and Mr. Owen, being compatriots in a strange land, and
both having done so splendidly at the dear old university, must be
friends.

Oh, certainly.

Then wouldn't Mr. Owen present his friend? It was always so pleasant
to meet the right kind of Americans when abroad. "Why! There he comes
now! I am sure that must be he; isn't it, Mr. Owen? Though one does
look so different in a boat and out of it."

It was indeed Peveril, who had purposely sauntered in that direction
for a closer view of the pretty girl whom "Dig" Owen, of all men, had
picked up; and, in another minute, Owen, with an extremely bad grace,
had introduced him.

From that moment, as is always the case when athletes and scholars
compete for feminine favor, the scholar was almost ignored, while his
muscular rival was petted to a degree that Owen declared simply
scandalous. Although the latter was still allowed to act as
second-best escort to the ladies, and form a fourth in their various
excursions, it was always Peveril who walked, sat, strolled, and
talked with Miss Rose, while Owen was monopolized by her mother.

The Bonnifays had only intended to spend a day or two in Oxford, but
the place proved so charmingly attractive that they remained a month,
and when they finally took their departure for the Continent Miss Rose
wore a superb diamond ring on the third finger of her left hand, that
had very recently been placed there by Peveril.

Before they separated it had been arranged that he and they should
travel through Norway together during the following summer. Owen had
also been invited to join the party, but had declined on the ground
that immediately upon taking his degree he would be obliged to return
to America.

So that winter the scholar, filled with envy and bitterness, ground
away gloomily but persistently at his books; while the athlete,
radiant with happiness, steadily cheerful and good-natured, labored
with his crew. Finally, he stroked them to a win on the Thames, and
then, at the height of his glory, began to consider his chances for a
degree. At this moment the blow was struck, and it came in the shape
of a cablegram from a New York law firm.

"Return at earliest convenience. Carson dead. Affairs badly
involved."

Boise Carson was the guardian whom Peveri