"I'll steer," said the Boy, fixing the rudder, and then arranging the cushions for himself, while the Tenor meekly took the oars.
With one strong stroke he brought the boat into mid-stream, then headed her down the river toward the sea, and settled to his oars with a long steady pull that roused the admiration of the Boy.
"You row like a 'Varsity man," he said.
"So I should," was the laconic rejoinder.
"Are you a 'Varsity man?"
"I am."
"Oxford, then, I'll bet. And did you take your degree?"
The Tenor nodded.
"Well, you are a queer chap!" said the Boy. "Were you expelled?"
The Tenor shook his head. "Did you do anything disgraceful?" The
Tenor again made a sign of negation. "Then why on earth did you come and
bury yourself alive in Morningquest?"
"That I might have the pleasure of rowing you down the river by moonlight, apparently," the Tenor answered, but without a smile.