A Sailor in Spite of Himself

by Harry Castlemon

The Blues were confident, as they had reason to be. The crew of the Mist handled their oars with a grace and skill that were surprising, and the way they made their light shell dance over the water, when once they settled fairly down to their work, frightened all the other academy boys, who allowed them to claim and boast of the championship without a single contest to prove their superiority. Bob and his men acknowledged that the odds were against them, and devoted every spare moment to preparations for the race. Jack Phillips, the coxswain of the Zephyr, measured off a two-mile course at the upper end of the bay, and twice each day his crew pulled over it in a heavy yawl. They swung Indian clubs and dumb-bells to harden their muscles, ran long races over the road to increase their powers of endurance, and all this while attended regularly to their school duties and kept pace with their classes. They were the favorites among the students by long odds, as any one could have told by counting the rosettes, and it was whispered about among the students that if all the crew of the Mist were like Gus Layton, its owner, there wouldn't have been a blue rosette to be seen. He was the most unpopular boy in school—so very unpopular, indeed, that any of the Blues, when asked why they wore his colors, felt called upon to explain that it was not on his account, but for the sake of Sprague, Haight and Bright, other members of his crew, whom everybody acknowledged to be good fellows. No one, not even his particular crony, said that Gus was a good fellow, and the reason for this will be seen as our story progresses.

"I say, Johnny," exclaimed Tom Thayer, continuing the conversation which we have so unceremoniously interrupted, "you don't want to see Bob Nellis beaten. Let me pull off that blue rosette and give you another that will correctly express your feelings."

Tom Thayer wore a white rosette and held the helm of the Sunbeam, while Johnny Parker wore a blue and was seated at the helm of the Firefly.

"I have no sympathy for Gus, that's a fact," said Johnny, raising his arm to shield the colors that were pinned to his breast. "But there's Sprague, you know; he is my chum."

"I am aware of it," replied Tom; "but with all due respect to you and him, I must say that he is keeping very bad company. He deserves to be beaten."

Johnny had no reply to make to this. It had long been a matter of wonder and discussion among the students that so good a fellow as Sprague should associate with such a scamp as Gus Layton, and as Johnny did not know what to say in defense of his friend's conduct, he brought the Firefly before the wind and filled away for the opposite side of the bay.

"I say, fellows," continued Tom, as soon as the very light wind that was blowing had carried the Firefly a hundred yards or so away, "did you notice how Simpson acted?"

"I was just about to ask the same question," said one of Tom's passengers. "He is almost bursting with some secret or other. Let's call him back and find out what it is. Isn't it strange how that fellow gets hold of every bit of news that's floating about?"

The boy referred to was seated in the Firefly with Johnny Parker. Next to Gus Layton he was the most unpopular boy in school, and the reason was, because he was an incorrigible tale-bearer. His tongue was so unruly that he never could keep a secret, no matter how damaging it might be to others, or even to himself. This unfortunate habit had got him into numberless scrapes, but he never seemed to learn wisdom by his rough experience.

While the conversation we have recorded was being held, Simpson kept twisting about on his seat, smiling and winking at his companions in a way that would have excited the astonishment and mirth of a stranger, but which told the boys present as plainly as words that he knew something which he could hardly keep from telling. By the time the two boats separated his secret had so swelled within him that he could contain it no longer.