his
mouth set. Well he knew the little tragedy through which Doane was
living.

Doane did better after that. The second boat gave the varsity some
sharp brushes while the coxswains barked and the coach shouted
staccato objurgation and comment through his megaphone, and the
rival oarsmen swung backward and forward in the expenditure of
ultimate power and drive.

But Jim Deacon was the man for varsity stroke. There was not the
least doubt about that. The coach could see it; the varsity could
feel it; but of them all Deacon alone knew why. He knew that Doane
was practically as strong an oar as he was, certainly as finished.
And Doane's experience was greater. The difficulty as Deacon grasped
it was that the boy had not employed all the material of his
experience. The coxswain, Seagraves, was a snappy little chap, with
an excellent opinion of his head. But Deacon had doubts as to his
racing sense. He could shoot ginger into his men, could lash them
along with a fine rhythm, but in negotiating a hard-fought race he
had his shortcomings. At least so Deacon had decided in the brushes
against the varsity shell when he was stroking the second varsity.

Deacon thanked no coxswain to tell him how to row a race, when to
sprint, when to dog along at a steady, swinging thirty; nor did he
require advice on the pacing and general condition of a rival crew.
As he swung forward for the catch, his practice was to turn his head
slightly to one side, chin along the shoulder, thus gaining through
the tail of his eye a glimpse of any boat that happened to be abeam,
slightly ahead or slightly astern. This glance told him everything
he wished to know. The coach did not know the reason for this
peculiarity in Deacon's style, but since it did not affect his rowing,
he very wisely said nothing. To his mind the varsity boat had at
last begun to arrive, and this was no time for minor points.

Two days before the Shelburne race the Baliol varsity in its final
time-trial came within ten seconds of equalling the lowest
downstream trial-record ever established--a record made by a
Shelburne eight of the early eighties. There was no doubt in the
mind of any one about the Baliol crew quarters that Deacon would be
the man to set the pace for his university in the supreme test
swiftly approaching.

News of Baliol's improved form began to be disseminated in the daily
press by qualified observers of rowing form who were beginning to
flock to the scene