Dick frowned.
“That’s nonsense, Taylor, and you know it,” he said in low tones.
“Nonsense!” Taylor raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“Yes, nonsense. You can’t convince me that you’re so stupid as not to be able to train for the crew and get through with your studies. There are lots of fellows doing it; always have done it. I’m doing it myself; Crocker’s doing it; so’s Milton and Arnold and lots of fellows; they’re all in in our class; I haven’t heard them say that they were afraid of not passing.”
“Well, that may be,” replied Taylor, “but it’s a question that every fellow must decide for himself. I honestly don’t think I ought to keep up crew work; I’ve got my folks to think of, you know; they didn’t send me to school here to row or play football or anything of that sort—that is, not that alone. I’ve got to pass, and to do that I’ve got to study. If I’m not as smart and clever as some of the rest of you”—here there was a trace of a sneer—“I can’t help it; a fellow’s what he is, you know.”
Dick experienced an intense desire to kick his host and tell him what he thought of him. But instead he smiled conciliatingly.
“I think you’re underestimating your ability, Taylor. Like a good fellow, get those notions out of your head and come back to work; do your best for the crew; it’s your last year. You know what shape we’re in; we haven’t anywhere near the material we ought to have. Confound it, Taylor, you’ve got to stay in the boat! You can’t do anything else, when you stop and think how your leaving will weaken us!”
A smile of pleased vanity crossed the other boy’s face. Then he shook his head resolutely.
“No, I can’t do it, Hope. Oh, I’ve thought it all over, and I know what it means to the crew; but you’ll soon find another fellow at seven, and never miss me. Of course, I’m awful sorry if it’s going to make trouble for you, Hope; you know that. But it’s my duty, and I guess we’d better consider the matter settled. I”—he smiled apologetically—“I’ll tender my resignation, Hope.”