"I know. He's an awful blowhard."
"But maybe he has got the best crew," chuckled Rex.
"Yet you say to accept it?"
"I say nothing. You're the skipper. You don't need anybody to decide for you. If you feel you do, put it to the vote of the crew."
"Oh! Our fellows will be eager for it," sighed Horace.
"Fancy our fellows won't mind a try-out, either," was Kingdon's cheerful rejoinder.
"Then I might as well say 'Yes,' but between now and then we've got to do some training."
"We're with you, Horrors," Rex assured him. "We'll win if we can." He felt in secret more serious doubt of winning than even Pence showed in his countenance.
CHAPTER XXX.
FACING DEFEAT.