“You mean criterion, I suppose,” said Clif, “but never mind. Just you keep it up, Tom, and Stu Evans will have to whistle for his job. I don’t care an awful lot for that chap, anyway. It was sort of hard luck, his getting banged up like that, but he shouldn’t have been joy-riding with Cox. Any one could see that Cox couldn’t drive a car! You keep right on winding up the old will power every night, Tom, and you’ll be a ball player yet!” “Is that _so_?” asked Tom with stinging sarcasm. CHAPTER XII THE BATTLING FLIVVER Tom roomed with Billy Desmond, a second class fellow. Billy was both a football and crew man, this spring rowing at four on the School eight. The baseball team played away from home on Saturday, meeting Peebles School at Clear Lake, and after what had happened last week neither Tom nor Clif was enthusiastic about going along. Still, they probably would have gone if the crews hadn’t offered an attraction nearer home. First and second eights were to do battle over the short course against similar crews from Highland School, and, since Billy was to row in the first boat, Tom proposed attending the races rather than the baseball game. Clif was agreeable, but mentioned the fact dubiously that Double Lake was nearly four miles away from the entrance of West Hall. “Heck, I’m not suggesting that we tramp it!” said Tom. “Far, far from such, old scout. There’s a fellow in the village who’s got a beautiful flivver, and I’m pretty sure I can get him to take us over and back for a couple of dollars.” “You mean that chap who drives the ‘The Wreck of the Hesperus’?” exclaimed Clif, outraged. “Sure. Why not? The thing goes all right, so what do you care how it looks?” “We-ell, but you’re sure we can’t hook a ride with one of the crews. Those busses hold――” “I know how many they hold, but there isn’t a chance. I asked Billy if he couldn’t smuggle us aboard, and he said nothing doing. Say, if it’s the dollar that’s worrying you, cheer up. I’m flush, boy!” “No, I’m not worrying about the dollar, I’m worrying about my self-respect,” answered Clif. “All right, though. I’ll sacrifice even that for you, Tom. Hold on, though! Say, I wonder if Loring would go.” “Loring? Gosh, I don’t believe so. Still, he might. That would mean taking Wattles, too, though.” “Leave Wattles at home. As long as the car held together Loring would be all right. Let’s ask him.”