But at last a fine, warm, sunny Spring day came, and Tom, after an early lecture one afternoon, arrayed himself in a costume suitable for rowing, and, with some cushions under his arm, set off for the boathouse.
“Whither away?” asked Phil, as he surveyed his chum.
“Oh, out for a row,” and Tom strove to make his voice indifferent.
“With cushions; eh? Want any company?”
“No, thanks, old man. No offense, of course,” he hastened to add, “but——”
“None taken!” exclaimed Phil. “Guess I’ll go get a girl myself.”
As Tom neared the boathouse he met Sid and Frank.
“Want me to pull an oar?” asked the former, as he saw the tall pitcher.
“No. I can manage,” and Tom proceeded to get out a light boat.