“Say, he’s got girls on the brain!” complained Phil. “Duck him, Tom, you aren’t doing anything.”
But Sid discretely got out of the way.
A day later the Boswell family arrived at the island. There were several servants—almost too many for the simple cottage—and Mr. and Mrs. Boswell, in addition to their son. It was hard to see from whom the lad inherited his unpleasant mannerisms, for both his parents were of the old-fashioned school of gentlemen and ladies, with exceedingly kind hearts. Boswell had evidently been spoiled, unless he did the spoiling process himself, which was more than likely.
When Mr. Boswell learned that some of his son’s college mates were on the island, he paid a formal call on them, and invited them to the cottage. They promised to come—some time.
“When Bossy isn’t home, I hope,” murmured Sid.
Pierce, Boswell’s English chum, arrived that same week, and after that our friends saw little of the rich lad. He and his friend were generally off together in a boat rowing or fishing.
Then another personage made his appearance, an athletic-looking man, whom Boswell introduced as his “trainer.” Then began the instruction in sculling. Tom and the others heard and saw some of it.
“He’s teaching him a totally different stroke than we row,” said Sid. “I wonder if it can be right?”
“I’ll stick to Lighton’s method,” declared Frank.
“Yes, for it’s the same as that used by Mr. Pierson,” added Tom. “It’s good enough for us.”