"If any of you fellows wish to motor down to the Groton Hotel on the
Point for an hour or two, you may go," said the coach, pushing back
his chair. He had begun to fear that his charges might be coming to
too fine a point of condition and had decided that the relaxation of
a bit of dancing might do no harm.
"Yeaa!" In an instant that subdued dining apartment was tumultuous
with vocal outcry, drawing to the doorway a crowd of curious freshmen
who were finishing dinner in their room.
"All right!" Dr. Nicholls grinned. "I gather all you varsity and
second varsity men want to go. I'll have the big launch ready at
eight. And--oh, Dick Rollins, don't forget; that boat leaves the
hotel dock at ten-forty-five precisely."
"Got you sir. Come on, fellows. Look out, you freshmen." With a yell
and a dive the oarsmen went through the doors.
Deacon followed at a more leisurely gait with that faint gleam of
amusement in his eyes which was so characteristic. His first impulse
was not to go, but upon second thought he decided that he would.
Jane Bostwick was stopping at the Groton. Her father was a successful
promoter and very close to Cephas Doane, Sr., whose bank stood back
of most of his operations. Deacon had known her rather well in the
days when her father was not a successful promoter.
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