had
held his crew inexorably in until the new man had had time to settle
down into his place and catch the form and time of the rest of the crew.
Clearly, too, the crew was rowing better every day, and no one believed
that Cradock's would be able to keep them off in the full tide of their
swing to victory.

This time the opinion of the school was right, and the following day
Benson's caught up and bumped Cradock's within three minutes of the
start. They had settled down and become a great crew, confident in
themselves and even more confident in the power and judgment of their
Stroke.

The ovation they received on the return to their boat-house they long
remembered. The noisy and enthusiastic tumult was indeed something to
remember and be proud of, but to Durend the few words of commendation of
Mr. Benson counted for far more.

"Well done, Durend!" he said simply. "I saw you knew your business, and
that is why I did not interfere. But even I did not expect so splendid a
success. Your men have done well indeed, but it is to you and your
fixity of purpose our win is mainly due. I have never known an
apparently more hopeless chase; and, to you others, I say that it shows
that there is almost nothing that fixity of purpose will not achieve in
the long run."

Even more pleasurable were the words of Montgomery, touched with real
contrition, as he grasped his old Stroke by the hand and begged his
pardon for doubting his ability and power to stroke a crew to victory.

CHAPTER III

Max Durend at Home

It was only two days after the close of the races when the head master
called Durend into his room. He held a slip of paper in his hand, and in
rather a grave voice informed the lad that his father was seriously ill.
His mother had cabled for his return, and he was to get ready to catch
the 2.15 train for Harwich at once.

Max obeyed. His preparations did not take long, and there was still a
little time to spare before he needed to start; therefore he sought out
Dale to say good-bye.

"But you will come back, of course, Durend?" the erstwhile cox
protested, rather struck by the earnestness of his friend's adieu.

"I have a feeling that I shall not, Dale. I cannot help it, but I keep
on acting almost unconsciously as though this were the last I shall see
of Hawkesley."

"Don't say that, Max. Why should you think your father is so ill as all
that? The cablegram doesn't say so. No, I can't take that. You simply