“None of your buts, old man,” said Fairbairn. “I say, if we only were to win, with you as cox, what a score it would be!”
“None of your ‘ifs,’ old man,” said Riddell, laughing. “But I’ll come to-morrow, if you are determined to have your way.”
“Of course I am,” said Fairbairn.
This conversation took place the evening that young Wyndham was taking tea with Silk and Gilks in the study of the former.
The intelligence that the new captain was to be taken out to steer the schoolhouse boat mysteriously got wind before the evening was over, and spread over the school like wildfire. Consequently, when Riddell arrived at the boat-house in the morning, he was surprised and horrified to find that nearly all Willoughby was awake and down at the river banks to see him.
It was embarrassing certainly, and when presently the crew got into their seats and a start was made, it became evident the new coxswain was anything but at home in his new position. The boat was a long time getting clear of the landing stage owing to his persistently mistaking in his flurry his right hand for his left, and then when it did get out into mid-stream the same reason prevented him from discovering that the reason why the boat would turn round instead of going straight was because he had his right cord pulled hard the whole time.
This spectacle, as may be imagined, afforded intense gratification to the curious onlookers, and many and hilarious were the shouts which fell on the ears of the unlucky captain.
“Oh, well coxed there!” one voice cried.
“Well steered in a circle!” shouted another.
“Mind you don’t knock the bank down,” yelled a third.