“They ought to let the first crew off, anyway,” said Eaton. “The second doesn’t need it so much.”
“They could come down with me to Manchester,” offered Rust. “The house is open, and I could take care of five perfectly well.”
“Do you suppose the old man would let us?” asked Eaton.
Talbot considered. “He might, if we could make him see that it’s necessary. I’ll try him, anyway.”
After the opening Bible-reading, the captain of the crew followed Mr. Westcott to the office. He returned in three minutes, crestfallen. “It’s no go,” he passed the news along. “He wouldn’t even discuss it.”
Some very sour faces scowled over the tops of books for the next half-hour. Those near the windows stole occasional glances into the street and across to the Garden beyond. It was a perfect June day, warm and quiet, with limpid air sleepily stirring and the sun beaming benignly over all. The autos of the unimprisoned idle slid by in endless succession, bearing their fortunate occupants whithersoever fancy called. The new green leaves on the trees in the Garden quivered soothingly over the groups of nurses and perambulators and playing children, and the poverty-blessed loafers slouching in unambitious contentment on the benches. And this beautiful day Newbury could enjoy, care-free, on the rocks at Cohasset, while the Westcott fellows were mewed up in a stuffy schoolroom, grinding out loathsome lessons. It was wicked!
The day passed as others before it. Lessons had to be learned and recitations made. That night every oarsman was pledged to be in bed at half-past nine. Out at Adams’s all noise was forbidden after nine o’clock, on pain of frightful tortures. Roger slept ten hours without a break, and awoke at sound of the rising bell, feeling strong enough to row the race alone.
The school hours of Friday dragged out their wonted course. At two, Talbot was called to the telephone, and emerged, chuckling tremendously, to meet McDowell at the foot of the stairs.
“It’s the biggest joke I ever heard. The Newbury fellows sat round on the rocks all day yesterday in sleeveless shirts, and burnt their arms so that they couldn’t sleep at all last night. And we slept like tops!”
“Gee, but that’s great!” crowed Mac. “I hope the old man won’t hear about it, though!”