“No fear of that,” laughed Kate. “Your wife will have that to do, if you ever get one. But you won’t ever, will you, dear?”
“Not if I know myself,” answered Myles.
The next morning he left for the city by the same early train that he had taken a week before, but this time it was not to leave a college. It was to re-enter a school of real life in which he was already an eager and promising student.
In glancing over the morning paper while on his way to town Myles read a description of the boat crews that were to race at New London the following week, and were already in their quarters on the Thames. His own name was not mentioned, but all the praise that should have been his for selecting and training the X—— College crew was given to Ben Watkins, the new captain.
This omission made Myles feel very sore and bitter against the hard fate that compelled him to resign all the glory that had been so nearly within his grasp. For a few minutes he rebelled fiercely against it. Then, with a thought of the dear ones he had just left, his mood changed, and he inwardly exclaimed: “No, I wouldn’t go back again if I could. Those fellows will get their names into the papers for a few days, but what will it all amount to in the end? Just nothing. I, on the other hand, am helping make the papers themselves, and am on my way to a position in which I can put names in or leave them out, as I think best. No, I’d rather be a reporter than captain of the crew. I should like to see that race, though. I wonder if Mr. Haxall would let me report it if I asked him, and told him what I knew about it. I’ll ask him, anyhow.”
CHAPTER VII.
“NO LOAFERS NOR REPORTERS ADMITTED.”