Talbot gaped after the lithe figure as it scurried up the stairs. “After-school work on the day of the race!” he gasped. “And Newbury with two days off! This is a pretty school!” Mac turned up at three o’clock, whistling as unconcernedly as if he were out for an ordinary practice, quite undisturbed by the reproaches hurled at his head. By the time he was dressed the _Veritas_ was in sight, bringing the whole Varsity crew to see the races, and sailing under the command of Deering himself. President John again elected to go on the launch, convinced that here his light would shine more brilliantly, and desiring to make sure in advance of the best vantage-point from which to gloat over the whole triumphant course of his crew when the great race came off. The atmosphere on the launch that day was unfavorable to the shining of lesser lights. Deering’s authority and Deering’s personality dominated the little craft. Though the Varsity captain spoke pleasantly to the referee, discussed the arrangement for sending off the boats with the starter, and greeted one of the newspaper reporters cordially as “Billy,” he ignored completely the presence of the father of the Triangular League, who sat obscurely in the stern, scowling with affected indifference over his cigarette. “He won’t speak to me, eh! Just like a Westcott snob!” the president muttered to himself. “What do I care? He won’t be so proud when he sees Newbury lead his school by four or five lengths. I hope Yale will lick his crew to their knees!”—a feat, by the way, which Yale failed to achieve by some quarter of a mile. To the Varsity men in the bow of the _Veritas_, the race for second crews seemed a tame affair. Westcott’s got a lead of half a length at the start, increased it to a whole one at the quarter, doubled this advantage during the next half mile, and added still another length in a pretty display-spurt beyond the bridge. Hoarse and happy, Mike brought his boat in to the float past a crowd of yelling, dancing friends who were putting to an extreme test the boasted stability of the old Spanish cutter. The members of the first crew, delighted to consider the complete victory of their schoolmates a good omen for their own race, helped Mac and his men out of their boat and poured sweet praises into their ears. “Nothing like a little extra French after school to get you ready for a race,” panted Mac, as Talbot wrung his hand and blessed him with a dozen different kinds of exclamation. “I hope you fellows won’t suffer from lack of it.” “Suffer from lack of it, you old idiot! Do you suppose we have strength to throw away?” “Get a lead in the beginning,” urged Mac, becoming serious. “It’s a lot easier to keep it than to get it after you’ve lost it. Newbury will quit if you can once show them your rudder.” Pete nodded. “And drive your crew,” continued Mac. “They can stand a lot more than they did on Wednesday.”