Frank remembered the Irish lad had been handy with an oar in the old days at Fardale, while Ephraim, at one time a genuine lubber, had been to sea and could pull like a sailor. Hans was the one Frank feared would cause trouble, but he said nothing of his fears. It would take some time and hard work to hammer his crew into any sort of shape, but he was out for sport, and to him work of such a nature seemed sport.
On the following morning Frank left Blue Cove for the nearest railway station, where he boarded a train bound for Washington. He was gone more than twenty-four hours, but when he returned he announced that a boat would follow him shortly.
That very afternoon a handsome eight-oar shell was brought to Blue Cove, and the boys received it with cheers of delight and admiration, the Blue Cove lads cheering as loudly as the others.
“Look at them!” exclaimed Diamond, his eyes shining. “True sons of Old Virginia, every one of them! Hearts as big as buckets and souls as large as their entire bodies! Virginia, Virginia! mother of presidents and fairest spot of all our glorious country! Who would not be proud to call you home!”
The Blue Cove boys permitted the Yale Combine to put their shell in the boathouse, and for more than an hour the place was filled with boys who were making comparisons between the two boats. The final decision of nearly all was that, although the new boat showed it was new, there was no perceptible difference between them.
Being doubtful about Hans, Frank decided to take his trial trip under cover of darkness, and the time was set for that evening.
It was nearly nine o’clock when, with his crew in their allotted positions and himself as stroke, Merriwell gave the word, and the light shell slipped out from beneath the shadow of the boathouse and glided away upon the calm waters of Blue Cove.
To Frank’s surprise, Hans could row far better than he had expected, and the trial was fairly satisfactory, although it was apparent that the boys would need no small amount of coaching to get them into a uniform and even stroke.
How this coaching was to be done puzzled Merriwell not a little, for he knew he must be out of the boat and in position to watch every man in order to give them points.
“I’ll have to borrow a stroke of the Blue Cove chaps,” he thought. “Spencer’s work is all right, but it would overwork him to take my place occasionally.”