Meanwhile no further trace of the missing cups or jewelry had been found. No one claimed the reward offered by Mr. Farson, to which the Boxer Hall Athletic Association added a substantial sum for the recovery of their trophies. Our friends said nothing of their find, and, though there was hardly a breath of suspicion against them, even in Boxer Hall, still they fretted.
"We've just got to find out who took those things!" cried Tom, one afternoon, coming back from a row on the river.
A number of the ordinary rowing boats had been secured, and Mr. Lighton spent some time giving the lads an idea of the rudiments of getting down to the right stroke. Of course with toe stretchers, and sliding seats, there would come a vast change, so he did not want to go too deeply into the matter until the right craft were at hand.
"Well, what shall we do this afternoon?" asked Sid, as he yawningly tossed aside a book that he had dipped into on coming to his room after a lecture.
"We ought to do some baseball practice," suggested Phil. "We've sort of been letting that slide."
"Let's do a little of----" began Frank, when the door flew open, and in came Kindlings, all excited.
"The new shell--I mean the second-hand eight--the boat we're going to do our practice in! I just got word from the freight office that it's there. Let's get a truck, and have it carted to the river. I'm crazy to get in and go for a row!"
"Hurray! That's the stuff!" cried Tom. "Come on, everybody!" and he led the way, the others following.
"Well, now we have it, what shall we do with it?"
"Looks as if one good stroke would split it in two."
"Nine, counting the coxswain, you gump! Didn't you ever see an eight-oared shell before?"
"Not so close at hand! Say, but it's flimsy all right."
"Oh, I guess we'll find it stiff enough for us."
These were only a few of the comments, and questions, propounded by the students of Randall as they gathered about the new shell--or, rather, the second-hand one--that had been purchased in order to give them practice while the new outfit was being made.
Following the enthusiastic announcement of Kindlings, as detailed in the last chapter, the more eager of the rowing contingent, including our four heroes, had gone to the freight depot, and, procuring a truck had, with great care and patience, transported the boat, well swathed in burlap, to the river. Later, under the direction of Coach Lighton, they had attached the outriggers, gotten out the oars, given the boat another coat of varnish, oiled it well, and now it rested in the water alongside the dock, as lightly as a swan, if not as gracefully.