of the regatta from New York, Philadelphia, and
various New England cities. Dr. Nicholls was reticent, but no one
could say that his demeanour was marked by gloom. Perhaps his
optimism would have been more marked had the information he
possessed concerning Shelburne been less disturbing. As a fact there
was every indication that the rival university would be represented
by one of the best crews in her history--which was to say a very
great deal. In truth, Baliol rowing enthusiasts had not seen their
shell cross the line ahead of a Shelburne varsity boat in three
consecutive years, a depressing state of affairs which in the
present season had filled every Baliol rowing man with grim
determination and the graduates with alternate hope and despair.

"Jim," said the coach, drawing Deacon from the float upon which he
had been standing, watching the antics of a crew of former Baliol
oarsmen who had come from far and wide to row the mile race of
"Gentlemen's Eights" which annually marked the afternoon preceding
the classic regatta day, "Jim, you're not worried at all, are you?
You're such a quiet sort of a chap, I can't seem to get you."

Deacon smiled faintly.

"No, I'm not worried--not a bit, sir. I mean I'm going to do my best,
and if that's good enough, why--well, we win."

"I want you to do more than your best to-morrow, Jim. It's got to be
a super-effort. You're up against a great Shelburne crew, the
greatest I ever saw--that means twelve years back. I wouldn't talk
to every man this way, but I think you're a stroke who can stand
responsibility. I think you're a man who can work the better when he
knows the size of his job. It's a big one, boy--the biggest I've
ever tackled."

"Yes, sir."

The coach studied him a minute.

"How do you feel about beating Shelburne? What I mean," he went on as
the oarsman regarded him, puzzled, "is, would it break your heart to
lose? Is the thought of being beaten so serious that you can't--that
you won't consider it?"

"No sir, I won't consider it. I don't go into anything without
wanting to come out ahead. I've worked three years to get into the
varsity. I realize the position you've given me will help me, make
me stand out after graduation, mean almost as much as my
diploma--provided we can win."

"What about Baliol? Do you think of the college, too, and what a
victory will mean to her? What defeat will mean?"

"Oh," Deacon shrugged; "of course," he went on a bit carelessly