"I think in justice
to my daughter-in-law to be, Jane Bostwick, that some explanation is
in order."
"Yes, sir." Deacon, his arm about his father's shoulder, stared at
the man.
"You see, Dr. Nicholls had the idea that you needed a finer edge put
on your rowing spirit. So I got Jane to cook up the story about that
cashier business at the bank."
"You did!"
"Yes. Of course your father was appointed. The only trouble was that
Jane, bright and clever as she is, bungled her lines."
"Bungled!" Deacon's face cleared. "That's what Dr. Nicholls said
about her on the road, the day I bucked out. I remember the word
somehow."
"She bungled, yes. She was to have made it very clear that by
winning you would escape my alleged wrath--or rather, your father
would. I knew you would row hard for Baliol, but I thought you might
row superhumanly for your father."
"Well," Jim Deacon flushed, then glanced proudly at his father--
"you were right, sir--I would."
PROFESSOR TODD'S USED CAR
BY L. H. ROBBINS
From _Everybody's Magazine_
He was a meek little man with sagging frame, dim lamps and feeble
ignition. Anxiously he pressed the salesman to tell him which of us
used cars in the wareroom was the slowest and safest.
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