Midshipman Bender, second class, was, at this time, regarded as
one of the worst "greasers" of all.

"What's on?" inquired Midshipman Hayes, one of the newcomers in
the room. "Tub race?"

"No, sir; fast spurt in single-pair shells," replied Midshipman
Trotter impressively.

"Whew! You've caught some real athletes, have you?"

"That's what we want to find out," responded Mr. Trotter. "Now,
then, misters, we warn you against approaching this noble sport
in any spirit of levity! You are not to think that this work
is for your own amusement, or for anyone else's. You must try
yourselves out fairly and squarely. Our purpose is to find out
which is the better oarsman, and also which rows with the more
finish. Take your seats in your craft."

Dave and Dan seated themselves, with all possible gravity, in their
respective wash basins.

"Up oars!" commanded Mr. Trotter.

As neither plebe knew just what was meant by this command they
had to be shown how to sit holding their "oars" straight up in
the air.

"Let fall!"