t put their
craft upon its rack that day and filed upstairs to the dressing-room of
Benson's boat-house.

Self-contained and preoccupied though he was, Durend could not help
noticing that his conduct of the races was being severely and adversely
commented upon. But he only shrugged his shoulders, hurried on his
clothes, and left the building perhaps a little more quickly than usual.
Some strokes would have given explanations to their crews, but it never
occurred to Durend to do so. Dale followed him from the room.

"See here, Max," he said, as he overtook him, "I think you should know
that our fellows are tremendously sick at the poor show we are making.
They feel that your stroking of the crew is not giving them a fair
chance."

Durend stopped abruptly. "So long as I am stroke, Dale, I shall set the
stroke I think proper. I am doing what I think is best for the crew, and
shall follow it out until the last race is over--lost or won."

"I know, I know, old man," replied Dale hastily. "But what is your game
really? You must know you can't win races with a funereal stroke like
that, so what's the good of trying it?"

Durend opened his lips as though about to make an angry reply.
Apparently he thought better of it, for he closed them again, and for
some minutes walked on in silence. When he spoke it was in the quiet
measured tones of one who has thought out his subject and has no doubts
in his own mind of the wisdom of his conclusions.

"After six weeks' hard work, Dale, we've managed to get the crew into
pretty good form--everybody says so. Is it all to be lightly thrown
away? Can we really expect Franklin to keep up the pace of the rest of
us without rushing his slide, bucketing, or something of the sort? Can
we now?"

Dale, but half convinced, returned to the charge. "Well, I don't know.
Something's got to be done. I heard three of the fellows just now
whispering something about asking Benson to put Montgomery back in the
boat."

"Where?"

Dale hesitated.

"I see. At stroke. Well, I may be prejudiced, but I don't think it would
answer, old man. Anyhow, we'll leave all that to Benson, and those three
fellows too. Come, Dale, I'm sick of thinking about this, so let's try
and talk about something a little more cheerful."

Dale was a light-hearted, cheery fellow enough, and found no difficulty
in turning the talk into other and more pleasant topics. The two, though
so opposite in point of character and physiqu