Randall College began to take on a deserted air, but there was still some activity around the boathouse. The shells were to be kept ready for use—the eights, the fours and the singles. For Mr. Lighton had urged all, who could, to come, if only for an occasional spin on the river to keep in condition.
As we know, our friends had arranged to camp on Crest Island, and from there, as they had a boat, they could take a run down to Randall, and get in a four for practice. If they could get four others, and someone to act as coxswain, they would also row in the eight, they told the coach.
“An excellent plan,” he declared. “It will give us a good crew for the eight in the Fall, I’m sure.”
“The only drawback about Crest Island,” said Phil, “is that Bossy is going there. He’ll be an unmitigated nuisance, if I’m any judge of human nature.”
“Especially if he does as he says he will, and takes to practicing in a single,” added Tom.
“But the island is big enough,” added Sid.
“Even if the cottage his folks have taken is near the Tylers’,” put in Frank, with a grin.
“Is it?” asked Sid, eagerly.
“It sure is.”
“Then he’d better look out!” declared Sid.