“We’ve got a good chance in everything—do you hear that, me boy?” cried Bricktop, in his rich brogue. “We’re going to win everything! Just because you’re in the eight you mustn’t be selfish.”
“I’m not, only——”
“Here comes our four!” interrupted Frank. “A cheer for ’em, boys!” and the echoes vibrated as the rallying cry went forth.
“Come on now, fellows,” cried Bean, dancing about, the colors of Randall on his megaphone fluttering in the wind. “All yell—
“We can row you on the water,
We can race you on the land.
We can wallop you at football
And at baseball beat the band!
“That’s us—Randall!” and the song and cry sent the members of the four-oared crew rejoicing on their way. They were Joe Jackson—Jerry’s twin brother—Bert Trendell, Pete Backus and Sam Terry.
Early in the season Bean Perkins had been picked for the four, but he had not made good. Anyhow, he declared, he could help Randall more with yelling than any other way, and many agreed with him, for Bean was certainly a “shouter.”
The river presented a gay scene. It was fairly covered with boats, until it seemed an impossibility that a race could be held. But the course had been marked off, and soon the boats of the officials would patrol the water-pathway and clear it.
Owing to the different lengths of the various races, several starting points had been selected, and the races had been timed so that the crowds could get from one to the other to watch the beginning if they desired. Of course the eight-oared race was the longest—three miles in this case, since the course of the river, narrowing as it did at several points, did not offer any longer course at any place available to the colleges. And three eight-oared shells take up considerable room abreast.