"I'm on the second now. You should have seen us scare the First boat this afternoon. Had a mile spin. Started up by the Quinnipiac bridge, and finished at Tomlinson, points you land-lubbers know nothing about."
"And the Second was licked, of course?"
"Only by a blade, my son. We gave them the race of their lives, fairly tore down the river, scared the oysters and all that sort of thing, to say nothing of the First Freshmen."
"And when do they put you in the first shell?"
"'Nother week, about, I guess. Wouldn't be right to the other fellow to advance me too fast."
"Great stuff, Codfish," said Turner, laughing. "I think you have confidence enough to steer the 'Varsity crew over the course at New London right now."
"Sure thing," said that worthy. "There's nothing to it. Mind over matter, as I hinted to you once before; kind of scientific attitude." The Codfish was busy untying a voluminous box which he had brought home with him.
"For heaven's sake, what have you got there, a prehistoric horse?" inquired Turner.
"No, my little halfback, it is a guitar," and having finished unwrapping the instrument, he swung it over his head. "I'm going out for the musical club stuff. I must have some activity, some life; can't get it with two grumps like you fellows, so I must go after it."
"Jove," groaned Frank, "haven't we suffered enough with you and the piano without having a guitar?"