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THE BOAT RACE

there motionless; St. John’s were not even trying to row; what had happened?

“I’m afraid—” Edward gulped, panic was in his voice, but he went on rowing steadily while he spoke to Durant. “I’m afraid maybe it’s serious.”

“Oh no.” Durant spoke cheerfully. “One or two of the others are almost as done up—I could see. He just rowed himself out, that’s all. See, the launch is coming up to take him on board; he’ll be all right.”

That might be true, but Edward could not help being apprehensive, and the thought of how his mother must be feeling, and his father too, with no one at hand to relieve their anxiety, disturbed him still more. And meanwhile along the shore St. Timothy’s were following their now leisurely rowing crew, waving flags and hats and yelling as if it was the most exciting finish that ever was.

Edward wished they would n’t cheer; it seemed heartless, and it must hurt his mother even more than it did him, to be there and suffering in the midst of it all.