id all she could to belittle Nancy's triumph. She stood on the
landing and sneered at the work of the crew, and especially at "Number
6" until one evening Jennie Bruce came up behind her, caught her by both
elbows, and thrust her suddenly toward the edge of the float.

"Ouch! Don't! You mean little thing!" cried Cora.

"Mean?" said Jennie, sharply. "If I was as mean as you are, Cora
Rathmore, I'd be afraid to go to sleep without a light in the room.
Just think of being left alone in the dark with anybody as mean as _you_
are!"

"Think you're smart! Ouch! Let go of me!"

"You quit ragging Nance Nelson, or I'll pitch you right into the
river--now you see if I don't!" threatened Jennie.

"I'll tell Miss Etching on you!" threatened Cora, still struggling.

"Go ahead. And I'll tell her the things you've said down here every time
the school crew is out. You have a funny kind of loyalty; haven't you,
Cora? Pah!"

"Mind your own business!" snapped Cora, but rubbing her elbows where
Jennie had held them like a vise.

She was a little afraid of Jennie's muscles, as well as of her sharp
tongue. Jennie was not a heavy girl, but she was wiry and strong.

This fall rowing was a particular fad of the Pinewood Hall girls. In the
long evenings after dinner all but the freshman class were allowed to go
out on the river until Mr. Pease blew the big horn at the boathouse to
call the stragglers in.

Some of the girls owned their own boats, too, for of course they could
not use the racing boats except in practice hours. Others, who did not
own boats, hired them of a boatman below the estate, near the railroad
bridge.

Jennie and Nancy pooled their pocket money and bought a light skiff--a
flat-bottomed affair which was just the thing for them to paddle about
in shallow water, and was "seaworthy." No ordinary amount of rocking
could turn the skiff over.

They often pulled into the still pools, or meadow ponds, opening into
the river, and plucked water-lilies. Nancy never did this without
remembering her adventures before she came to Pinewood Hall--the
occasion when she had helped save Bob Endress from drowning.

Bob was now a lordly senior at Dr. Dudley's Academy. Nancy had only seen
him flashing past the girls' boathouse in the Academy eight. Bob was
stroke of his school's first crew. Nancy often wondered if he had
learned to swim yet.

One evening when the two chums from Number 30, West Side (they had held
their old room fo