ON THE RIVER
The afternoon was warm--almost too warm for that time of year, and Tom
and Frank, as they neared the river, felt the breeze sweeping up from
the water.
“That’s something like,” remarked Frank, who now walked with scarcely
the semblance of a limp.
“Yes, it’ll do us good to get cooled off,” said Tom. “I hope there’s a
decent boat left.”
There were several rowing craft, owned by the college, which were used
in common by the students, it being a case of first come first served.
In addition a number of the lads had boats of their own, but Tom was not
one of the lucky ones.
“There’s Holly’s skiff,” remarked the Big Californian, as the two came
near the boat house. “He won’t use it to-day, as he’s gone to a meeting
of the athletic committee over at Exter. Let’s pinch that.”
“All right, I guess he won’t mind. It’s the only decent one left,
anyhow.”
“I wonder why Randall never did much shell racing?” mused Frank, as he
and his chum were floating idly down the river. “I should think the
fellows would. There’s a good course here, and with Boxer Hall, and
Fairview, so close by, and near the river, there ought to be more
interest in the sport.”
“That’s right, there had,” agreed Tom, casting a glance over his
shoulder to see if the course was clear. “Maybe we will have a good
crew, after we see how these games come out. What we need is some one
to stir things up. Randall, from what I hear, didn’t use to take any
interest in sports. It’s only of late years that she’s come to the
front. Of course there has been some rowing here, and one or two good
races, but nothing to boast of. What do you say if we start something?”
“I’m willing. We four might get a shell and challenge Boxer Hall. I like
rowing, and it’s good exercise. But it’s too late to do anything this
term, especially with the games coming on.”
“That’s right, but it’s worth thinking of,” agreed Frank. “We’ll keep it
in mind. Want me to row?”
“No, you sit still and take it easy. You’re out for your health you
know.”
“Oh, you be hanged!” was the half-protesting answer. “You’d have ’em
think I was an invalid. I’m all right.”
“I hope you keep so,” was Tom’s comment, as he bent to the oars.
They went down the river for a mile or so, talking of many things, but
chiefly of the coming contests. Then, as they neared the vicinity of a
little recreation park, which was not far from Fairview Institute, Frank
exclaimed:
“Aren’t those some of our friends on shore?”
Tom looked across, being close to the bank at the time, and saw two
young ladies.
“It looks like----” he began.
“It’s Miss Tyler, and Miss Harrison,” broke in Frank quickly. “I say,
Tom, put me ashore, will you, I want to speak to them for a minute. Come
on up, and have a chat.”
“No,” replied Tom shortly. “You can go, though,” and he swung the boat
in toward land. A moment later Frank had leaped ashore and was walking
toward the young ladies, who seemed surprised to see him. They turned to
look at Tom, who raised his hat.
Our hero was not a little astonished when, a moment later, Frank and
Miss Harrison strolled off down a woodland path, leaving Madge Tyler
alone there.
“He’s got nerve!” mused Tom, and his cheeks began to burn. Miss Tyler
started to walk away from the river, and at the sight of her Tom took a
sudden resolve.
“Hang it all!” he murmured, “I’m going to chance it. She can’t any more
than turn me down.”
A moment later he, too, had leaped ashore, tying the boat to an
overhanging tree, and then he started to overtake the girl who occupied
so much of his thoughts.
“I say--Miss Tyler--Madge!” he called.
“Oh, how do you do?” she replied, coldly, as though just aware of his
presence.
“I--I don’t do very well,” blurted out Tom. “I--er--say, what’s the
matter, Madge?” he asked helplessly and utterly unable to dissemble any
longer.
“The matter? Why, I didn’t know that anything was.”
“Yes you did. That May walk--why wouldn’t you let me go with you?”
“Why, I fancied you had a previous engagement,” and her eyes, in which
she could not altogether conceal the lurking glance of mischief, looked
straight at Tom, making his heart beat faster than usual.
“Oh, you mean that Miss Benson? That was an accident. She had scratched
herself and----”
“You were a very efficient first-aider,” came the quick retort.
“Oh, I say now, Madge--that isn’t fair. I couldn’t help it--honestly.
Say, come for a row; will you? It’s early yet.”
“And leave Mabel?”
“She left you, or, rather, Frank kidnapped her. We’ll get them, if you
like, but----”
“Oh, I don’t know as it’s necessary,” was Miss Tyler’s calm but quick
response, and the mischief in her eyes grew. “If you’re sure you want
me, I’ll come, but I’m not going to get scratched with a thorn, so you
can save your handkerchief.”
“Oh, I say now, that’s not fair,” laughed Tom. “I haven’t seen Miss
Benson since, though I suppose you and Mr. Shambler----”
“Tom!” she exclaimed, half angrily, and our hero had the sense to say no
more. The two were soon in the boat, Tom rowing idly along under the
arches of overhanging bushes.
The little misunderstanding had passed away, and the two were their
happy selves again. Tom’s first care was to make sure that he would see
Miss Tyler at the games, and she promised to be on hand, and to join a
little party that Tom and his chums were planning after the events had
been run off.
“But I think you had better put me ashore now,” said Madge after a bit.
“It is getting late, and it’s quite a walk for Mabel and me back to
Fairview. There she is now, waving to me.”
Tom saw Frank and Miss Harrison on shore beckoning to them.
“Oh, but I say, we haven’t been out long at all,” he protested. “Can’t
you stay a little longer?”
Madge shook her head, smiling the while, and, rather against his will,
Tom put about, and began to row back to where Frank and his friend
waited. As he swung out into the stream he heard voices on shore, and
they at once struck him as being familiar. A moment later he had a
glimpse of Shambler, talking to a man--the same untidy individual who
had been with the student near the gymnasium some time previous. Miss
Tyler saw Shambler, at the same moment.
“Look, Tom!” she exclaimed softly.
“Yes, I see him,” was the pitcher’s answer. “I don’t care, now, though.
I’m with you.”
“Is that a Randall man with him?” Madge wanted to know.
Tom shook his head, and, the next moment there came floating clearly
across the water this scrap of conversation:
“I tell you I’ve got to have more money!” said the shabbily-dressed man.
“And I tell you I won’t have any until after the games--a week from
now,” replied Shambler. Then it seemed as if the man made an effort to
strike him.
“Oh, Tom!” cried Miss Tyler, involuntarily.
Like a flash Shambler turned at the sound of the voice. He and the man
had been standing on the bank, behind a clump of bushes, but a sudden
movement brought them into plain view. The new student saw the occupants
of the boat. For an instant he stared at them, and then, as though
caught in some questionable act, he made a dive into the woods, and was
lost to sight. The man stood there for a moment, as if bewildered, and
then, he, too, vanished.
“That was rather queer,” remarked Miss Tyler.
“Very,” assented Tom.
“I wonder if--if they came here to--to fight?” she faltered.
“Not very likely,” replied Tom dryly. “They are friends I guess, though
I don’t know who the man is.”
“That’s a queer way for a friend to act,” commented Madge. “Mr. Shambler
is--queer, I think.”
“Had much opportunity to judge?” asked Tom mischievously.
“No, of course not. I have only met him a few times, and I only went
with him that once to----”
“Get even with me,” finished Tom with a laugh.
“Mean! Smarty!” pouted Madge.
“Oh, it’s all right, I deserved it, I guess,” admitted Tom, for he did
not want to run any further chances. “But Shambler _is_ queer, though
he’s one of the best athletes we’ve got. He beat me in the mile run
try-out. He’s our star sprinter.”
“You’ll need plenty. Our boys are going to win at the meet,” predicted
Madge.
“Never!” cried Tom, with mock heroics in his voice. “Like the old guard,
Randall may die but never surrender.”
With a little bump the boat hit the sandy bank, and Tom helped Madge
out. Frank and Mabel came to meet them, and, after a little chat, the
two girls said good-bye, for they had to return to Fairview.
“Well, it’s a wonder you wouldn’t thank me,” said Frank to his chum,
when they were rowing back toward Randall.
“Thank you--what for?”
“For giving you the chance you needed. I took Mabel and myself off so
you could straighten things out. Did you?”
“I did!” exclaimed Tom with a laugh. “It’s all right now. We’re friends
again. Much obliged!”
“Good. I thought though, from the serious looks you both wore as the
boat came to shore, that it was all off.”
“No, that was on account of something we saw. Shambler was back there a
way, talking with a questionable looking chap.”
“Ha! The same one who called for him one day?”
“Yes. I don’t like the looks of it. It seems as if something was up.”
“Oh, you’re too much given to imagining things, Tom,” declared Frank.
“Shambler’s all right, I think.”
“Well, I’m sure I hope so, and yet----” Tom shook his head without
finishing the sentence, and the remainder of the row was finished in
comparative silence.