in his new position. The boat was a long time
getting clear of the landing stage owing to his persistently mistaking
in his flurry his right hand for his left, and then when it did get out
into mid-stream the same reason prevented him from discovering that the
reason why the boat would turn round instead of going straight was
because he had his right cord pulled hard the whole time.

This spectacle, as may be imagined, afforded intense gratification to
the curious onlookers, and many and hilarious were the shouts which fell
on the ears of the unlucky captain.

"Oh, well coxed there!" one voice cried.

"Well steered in a circle!" shouted another.

"Mind you don't knock the bank down," yelled a third.

"Pull your right there!"

"Try him without the rudder. See if he don't steer better that way."

In the midst of these uncomplimentary shouts the boat slowly wended its
erratic course up the river, amidst crowds of boys on either bank.

"Riddell, old man," said Fairbairn, leaning forward from his place at
stroke, "what's the row?"

It only needed a friendly voice to recall the captain to himself. By an
effort he forgot about the crowds and turned a deaf ear to the shouts,
and straightening himself, and taking the lines steadily in his hands,
looked up quietly at his friend. Richard was himself again.

"Now then!" cried Fairbairn to his men behind, "row all!" and he led
them off with a long steady stroke.

For a little distance the boat travelled well. Riddell kept a good
course, and the whole crew worked steadily. The scoffers on the bank
were perplexed, and their jeers died away feebly. This was not a crew
of muffs assuredly. Those first twenty or thirty yards were rowed in a
style not very far short of the Parrett's standard, and Parson himself,
the best cox of Parrett's house, could hardly have taken the boat down
that reach in a better course.

There was something ominous in this. But, to the great relief of the
unfriendly critics, this showy lead was not maintained. Before a
hundred yards were completed something seemed to go wrong in the boat.
It rolled heavily and wavered in its course. What was wrong?

The fault was certainly not in Fairbairn, who kept doggedly to work in
perfectly even style. Nor, to all appearance, was it in Riddell. He
was evidently puzzled by the sudden unsteadiness of the boat, but no one
could lay it to his charge.

"Who's that digging behind?" cried Fairbairn over