s position at the rudder enabled him to
conjecture a great deal. But he, too, was dumb. So it was that the
Benson crew could answer the questions of their distressed friends only
by referring them with disparaging shrugs of the shoulders to their
worthy Stroke.

Durend had never been a popular boy. He was respected for his steady
persistence and his capacity for unlimited hard work, but popular he
could not be said to be, even with his crew. He held himself rather
aloof, and never really took them into his confidence. He seemed to
think that if he did his best as Stroke, both in rowing and in
generalship, he had done all that was necessary. His plans, his hopes,
and his fears he kept strictly to himself. Why worry his men about them?
he reasoned, and in the main, no doubt, he was right, though he carried
it much too far. As a consequence the crew, with the possible exception
of Dale, were left to conjecture his reasons for all that he did, and in
most cases to put a wrong construction upon them.

But, though they growled, they were too sportsmanlike and too loyal to
their House to do more, and 11 a.m. next day saw them at their places
every bit as eager as before. This time, without a doubt, they told one
another, Durend would set them a faster stroke and give them a chance to
show the stuff they were made of.

Unhappily they were doomed to fresh disappointment. Twice, indeed,
Durend quickened up his stroke, but almost immediately he felt the time
and swing of the crew again becoming ragged. In his judgment it was
useless to persist in hope of an improvement; so, with the decisiveness
that was one of his chief characteristics, he promptly dropped his
stroke back into his old rate of striking. His men fretted and fumed
behind him, and one or two even went so far as to shout aloud for a
spurt. A sharp reprimand was all they got for their trouble, and in high
dudgeon they relapsed again into a savage silence. Fortunately, though
they saw nothing of the crew ahead, they managed to keep a length of
clear water between them and the weak Crawford crew travelling in their
wake.

No cheers heralded their return. The doings of Benson's attracted little
attention now, for all interest had centred upon the desperate struggles
between the three leading boats, Cradock's, Colson's, and Johnson's--for
the first two had now changed places. It is almost as hard to be ignored
as to be scoffed at, and it was a very sore crew indeed tha