Try for that. The eight oars ought to sound like a single pair when you learn to row in unison.
"Pick it up a little faster, bow!" he called to Boswell.
"This is the way I learned to row," came the retort from the bow oar.
"Well, you'll have to unlearn some things," retorted the coach, grimly.
"Don't look so worried, Tom," he went on a little later. "You're picking up your stroke fairly well. Frank, a little more forward—reach out well over your toes. That's better. Now let's hit it up a little."
They had been rowing about twenty strokes per minute—rather slow, and, as Mr. Lighton indicated an increase, Frank followed, until they were doing twenty-four, a substantial advance. As they rowed along, Tom glanced away from Frank's rising and falling back, and said in a low voice:
"Here comes Boxer Hall!"
