“Well, there isn’t a decent course within a good many miles,” said Alf. “I don’t believe Yardley ever tried rowing. The year before I came here they had an ‘Aquatic Tournament,’ whatever that is; Broadwood came over and there were canoe races and swimming races and diving stunts on the river. But Broadwood got so everlastingly walloped that there wasn’t much fun for any one and it was never tried again.”
A little later, on the way across the Yard, Dan said:
“By the way, Alf, Cambridge sends out invitations in about two weeks. I want to get Gerald in, if I can. How do you feel about it?”
“Me? Why, I’ll help, of course. Gerald’s not a bad little chap, not by any means. I guess we can make it go all right. We’ll have to do a little political work, though. I wonder whether he’d rather join Cambridge than Oxford. He and Tom get on pretty well together, you know, and Tom’s had him up to Oxford twice.”
“I think he will take Cambridge if he gets a chance,” Dan replied. “I’m going to take him again Saturday night. I suppose we’d better talk him up with the fellows.”
“Yes. I guess we’re certain of five or six votes already. And we can get that many more without much trouble.”
“Just what is the method of selecting fellows?” asked Dan, as they came to a pause at the doorway of Dudley.
“You get a majority of the meeting to agree on the candidate, first. Then his name is put down on the list, and the list goes to the Admission Committee. The Committee is composed of the President and two members from each class of the three upper classes, seven in all. They vote on the names as they’re read off. One black ball keeps a fellow out.”
Dan whistled softly.