CHAPTER VIII.
“LORD STEEREM,” THE COXSWAIN.
BILLINGS charged his companion to say nothing of the scheme for playinga trick upon Ben Watkins that his fertile brain was busily hatching,and Myles promised that he would not. It was easy to keep this promise,seeing that he had no idea what the scheme was, for the other did notdivulge his plans, and Myles was left to imagine what he pleased. Hewas, of course, obliged to announce to all the other reporters hisfailure to have the obnoxious notice removed, and they at once began toprepare indignant dispatches to their respective papers concerning it.
In the meantime, leaving Myles in his room at the hotel writing adetailed description of the X—— crew, their boat, style of rowing,etc., which, of all the reporters, he alone was able to do, Billingswas flying about the city and displaying an amount of energy wonderfulto behold in one of his temperament. At the same time his movementswere veiled with such secrecy that no one for a moment suspected whathe was up to. He visited a milliner’s, where he procured a quantity ofbroad black ribbon and a yard or two of blue silk. All this he took to,and left with, a local artist, with whom he held a short consultation.
He next went to a certain wharf, at which lay a handsome,saucy-looking, steam launch, just arrived from New York. As thepress-boat, in which it was intended that all the newspaper men shouldfollow the race, was notoriously slow, and it was certain she would notget within half a mile of the finish, the _Phonograph_ had providedthis swift craft for the especial use of its own reporters. This hadbeen kept a secret, and no one, except Billings and the captain of thelaunch, knew to whom she belonged or why she was there.
After a talk with this captain, that seemed to afford the latter muchamusement, Billings engaged a row-boat and was pulled off to one of themany fine yachts lying in the harbor. While he was gone the captain ofthe launch called his engineer and the two men who formed his crew,and took them to a hat-store in the town.
Billings spent an hour on board the yacht. When he left he carried abundle of something, and his face expressed the liveliest satisfaction.He took this bundle to his elegant apartment in the hotel, and then satdown with Myles to prepare his dispatch. After writing steadily formore than an hour with his usual marvellous rapidity, he read to hiscompanion an article on the X—— crew and its recent action, so brightand witty, and placing them in such a ridiculous light, that at itsconclusion the latter was sore with laughter.
When the New York papers reached New London the next morning, which wasthat of the day before the great race, the _Phonograph_ immediatelybecame so popular that its entire edition was quickly sold at more thandouble the usual price. In it Billings’ humorous article on the X——College men set everybody to laughing. Myles’ detailed description ofall the crew had done, and hoped to do, was proof to the public thattheir exclusion of reporters had failed of its intended object. Besidesthis, the _Phonograph_ contained another exclusive bit of news thatexcited a lively interest. It was only a paragraph, and read as follows:
“It is reported that Lord Steerem, of England, the famous Oxfordcoxswain, may be expected to reach New London to-day. His lordship,who is about to cruise in American waters in his splendid steamyacht _Happy Thought_, takes the liveliest interest in our ‘Varsity’boat-racing. He has expressed such an ardent desire to witness theevent of to-morrow that he will probably come directly to this placebefore touching at any other American port. Of course the college menassembled here are full of curiosity to meet so able an authority onall matters pertaining to boat-racing, and he will undoubtedly bewarmly welcomed at the head-quarters of the respective crews.”
The reporters of the other papers, in which this interesting item hadnot appeared, besieged Myles and Billings for further informationregarding his lordship and his expected arrival. As neither of them hadany to give, their questioners gradually dispersed, each determined tobe the first to secure an interview with the distinguished foreigner.Some of them went down the harbor in row-boats, and others haunted thewharves, while some even drove down to the Pequot House, on the chancethat the English yacht might stop there before proceeding up the river.They were all doomed to disappointment; for up to two o’clock nothinghad been seen of the _Happy Thought_.
It had been arranged that at this hour the press-boat, taking suchreporters as wished to go, should steam up the river for a last lookat the course and the quarters in which the crews were spending aday of idleness and complete rest. At two o’clock, therefore, allthe reporters ceased for a time to watch for the English yacht, andhastened aboard the press-boat, each being afraid to stay behind lestthe others might get hold of something he would be sorry to miss.
At Billings’ suggestion Myles went with the rest, but his fellow-workerremained behind, claiming that he had important business to attend to.He began to attend to it, with an activity that would have amazed hiscompanions had they been on hand to witness it, the moment he was leftalone.
While he was thus busy the press-boat, with its load of jollypassengers, steamed slowly and heavily up the river. After half anhour of laborious puffing and snorting, as it drew near the head of thecourse and came within sight of the quarters, somebody on board calledout:
“Hello! Here’s a lively little fellow coming up behind us. It must be alaunch from one of the big yachts.”
All eyes were instantly directed toward the slender craft that, withpolished brass-work gleaming in the bright sunlight, and gay colorsflying at stem and stern, was overhauling them so rapidly that theyseemed to be anchored. The curiosity with which they watched itsapproach was changed to incredulous amazement as it shot past them, andthey could decipher the private signal that fluttered above its bows.It was a burgee of blue silk on which in letters of gold they readthe name _Happy Thought_. The same name appeared on the black bandsencircling the jaunty straw hats of its crew. Could Lord Steerem havearrived? It must be so. Yes, there was the flag of the Royal YachtSquadron flying from the after jack-staff, and, in the glass-encasedpilot-house they caught a fleeting glimpse of a slight, dark-mustachedfigure, clad in yachting uniform.
That must be Lord Steerem himself. But how could he have given them theslip? How aggravating that he should have arrived just at this time.
“Hurry up, captain! Crowd on steam, engineer! Never mind your boiler.We mustn’t lose sight of this fellow now. The whole country is anxiousto learn of his movements. Who is he? Why, a swell from over the water.An English lord. An Oxford coxswain. The most important personage toarrive in America for many a day!”
So the press-boat puffed and labored harder than ever, while theexcited reporters crowded forward in their anxiety not to lose sight ofthe swift launch cleaving the waters ahead of them like an arrow. Theybore the bow of their boat deep into the water and lifted her sternhigh in the air in their eagerness to secure the best places from whichto see, and the poor old craft almost came to a stand-still. Still theyyelled: “Faster—faster, captain! Pile on your steam, engineer!”
At last the dainty launch dashed up in front of the X—— Collegeboat-house. Her engine was stopped, reversed, and she lay motionlessbeside the float. Then a slightly built figure in glittering uniformstepped from her and sauntered toward a group of the crew who werewatching him curiously.
From them Ben Watkins, the captain, stepped forward, and to him thestranger handed a card bearing a gorgeous crest and the inscription“Lord Steerem, Brasscheek College, Oxford.”
Ben had read the morning _Phonograph_ and knew this distinguishedarrival was expected, but to have the honor of his first visit wasalmost too good to be true. It was overwhelming, and he hardly knew howto frame a proper speech of welcome.
“I am sure we are very glad to see you—that is, I mean you have doneus a great honor, Mr.—I mean your lordship. Will you step up and lookat our quarters?” he finally managed to say.
Ben Watkins was a splendid oarsman; nobody could deny that, but he wasnothing of a society man, and to have a real live lord on his hands wasalmost too much for hi
m.
“Aw, yes,” replied Lord Steerem, with a most affected drawl. “Don’tcare if I do. Queer old crib of a place, though.”
“Yes, it is pretty bad,” Ben hastened to answer, though until thatmoment he had thought the X—— quarters about as comfortable asthey could be made. “We have hard work to put up with them, and shallprobably build a club-house of our own before next year. I suppose yourquarters on the English Thames are very fine, Mr.—I mean Lord Steerem?”
“Aw, yes. Each crew there has a castle to itself, you know. But, Isay,”—here his lordship carefully adjusted a single eye-glass, makingan awful face in his efforts to keep it from dropping off—“what abeastly queer go that is, don’t you know!”
He had stopped and was staring at the notice over the front gate.
“You don’t mean to tell me that those cads from the noospapers actuallytry to force their way in here?”
“Oh, yes, we are bothered to death with them,” replied Ben. “Don’t youfind the same trouble on the other side?”
“Aw, no. We keep a lot of bobbies on hand, and any noospaper fellahwould be arrested at once if he came anywhere near the quarters. Itwould make the whole thing too beastly common, don’t you know, if weshould let ’em find out every thing about us before the race.”
Ben was somewhat staggered by this; but of course his lordship mustknow what he was talking about, so he only said: “I wish we could dothe same over here,” at the same time knowing very well that he did notwish any such thing.
Lord Steerem was shown all over the quarters; he inspected theracing-shells in the boat-house, was introduced to the other fellows,some of whom did not seem to think so much of the honor as did BenWatkins, and finally expressed a desire to see the crew take a shortspin on the river, that he might compare American with the Englishstyle of rowing.
This request was of course granted, and when the shell was in the waterand the men had taken their places, Captain Watkins asked as a greatfavor that the famous coxswain would go with them and steer.
“Aw, yes, with pleasure,” replied his lordship. “Am a little rusty, ofcourse, but I may be able to give you a pointer or two, don’t you know!”
The crew did not think that the imported coxswain steered as well astheir own, who had been left behind. He also found so much fault withthe boat, and criticised their manner of rowing so sharply, that thespin was cut short, and within ten minutes they were back at the float.
All this time the press-boat had hovered near, and its passengershad taken full notes of these proceedings for the long articles theyintended to write concerning them. It seemed to Myles Manning thatthe noble coxswain was an awful duffer at the business of steering aracing-shell. He wished Billings were there to enjoy the performancewith him; but he held his tongue and saw all that he could.
Lord Steerem noticed the curiosity that his appearance seemed to exciteon the press-boat, and he now asked who those “fellahs” were.
“Oh, they are only a lot of reporters,” answered Ben Watkins,carelessly. In his heart he was glad enough to feel that the pressof the whole country was certain to be informed of the honors beingshowered upon him and his crew by this visit of a foreign nobleman.
“Aw, by the way!” exclaimed his lordship, with a sudden effort ofmemory, “where’s Manning? I heard before I left the other side thatyour captain’s name was Manning, don’t you know!”
“Manning? Oh, he has left college, and gone on some paper or otheras a reporter,” answered Ben Watkins. “I shouldn’t wonder if he wasout there on that boat now,” he added, with the expectation that hislordship would be so disgusted at this intelligence as to take nofurther interest in Manning.
To his amazement Lord Steerem expressed great pleasure at learning thatthe person for whom he had inquired was so near at hand. He even wentso far as to say that, from all he had heard on the other side, hebelieved Manning to be the only man in this country who really knew howto row. Then, declaring that their late captain was the person of allothers whom he particularly wished to meet, he bade his entertainers acurt farewell, and, springing aboard his launch, ordered the captain torun out to the press-boat.
As this craft was but a short distance from the X—— float, a fewturns of the screw sent the launch alongside of her, and its captaininquired if a gentleman named Manning was on board.
When Myles was pointed out to him he presented Lord Steerem’scompliments and asked if Mr. Manning would kindly come on board thelaunch for a few minutes, as his lordship had something of importanceto communicate to him in private.
Greatly wondering at this, and not at all desiring to meet LordSteerem, but thinking that he might possibly obtain some facts ofinterest for his paper by so doing, Myles complied with this request.
In the meanwhile the other reporters were gazing eagerly at the launch,noting the trim appearance of her crew, and trying to get a goodlook at Lord Steerem, who was partially concealed within the littlepilot-house.
The moment Myles stepped on board the dainty craft she was cast loosefrom the press-boat, and as she began to move ahead at full speed hercolors were hauled down. A moment later an American yacht ensign wasrun up on the after jack-staff, while from the one at the bow a broadsilken banner inscribed in large golden letters, _The Phonograph_, wasflung to the evening breeze. This name also appeared, as if by magic,on the black ribbons that encircled the new straw hats of the crew.At the same instant Lord Steerem stepped from the pilot-house, and,snatching the dark mustache from his face, exclaimed in the well-knownvoice of Billings, the _Phonograph_ reporter:
“Good-bye! Ta-ta! Must be off to the other side, don’t you know!”
An angry yell, a howl of derision, and finally a hearty cheer, burstfrom the reporters on the press-boat as they realized the abominablehoax of which they were the victims. On the float, from which BenWatkins and his men also witnessed and fully comprehended the wholescene, a dead silence reigned. Their mortification was too great tofind a fitting expression just at that moment, and it was probably onaccount of it that they lost the race the next day—for lose it theydid by a boat’s length.
As for Myles, his astonishment was only equalled by his admiration forBillings’ genius and the admirable self-possession with which he actedhis part. He heartily congratulated his companion as they sped downthe placid river, followed by the clumsy press-boat and its shoutingpassengers.
“Lord Steerem,” as he was called for many days, had no difficultyin obtaining the forgiveness of his fellow-reporters, for they wereonly too glad that one of their number had thus got even with theungentlemanly captain of the X—— College crew.