“There must be something between them,” went on Tom. “I wonder if, after all, it can have anything to do with the missing jewelry?”
“What makes you think so?” asked Phil.
“I don’t know that I do, very definitely. But that Mendez was certainly anxious to find Bossy, though for what reason I can’t even guess. Wouldn’t it be queer if Bossy had found those cups and other things, and gotten rid of ’em through the Mexican, after he found he had carried the joke too far?”
“I believe you,” replied Frank. “But it’s pretty far-fetched to my way of thinking. I’d hate to believe that any Randall man would be guilty of such a thing.”
“So would I,” added Phil.
“Oh, well, I only mentioned it as a supposition,” said Tom, in self-defense. “Anyhow, Bossy sure does practice hard in his single. I guess that trainer of his knows his business.”
“Yes, he’s a good trainer,” admitted Frank. “I’ve heard of him, but it’s pretty near the limit for a fellow to have a private trainer. It’s too much like putting on lugs.”
“It is that,” said Phil. “And I suppose, when we get back in the Fall, about all we’ll hear will be Bossy and his shell.”
“I wonder if he has a chance to win?” asked Tom. “They have some expert scullers at Boxer Hall.”
“Well, they ought to have; look how long they’ve been at it,” retorted Frank.