Collingwood. He was not so popular, because he maintained a certain
dignity and reserve; even Westby seemed to stand somewhat in awe of
Scarborough. He was, as Irving understood, the best oarsman in the
school, captain of the school crew, besides being the crack shot-putter
and hammer-thrower; if he and Collingwood had together chosen to throw
their influence against a new master, life would indeed have been hard.
But Scarborough’s attitude had been one of entire indifference; he would
stand by and smile sometimes when Westby was engaged in chaffing Irving,
and then, as if tired of it, he would turn his back and walk away.

Irving visited Barclay at his house during the noon recess, borrowed his
revolver, and received the last simple instructions.

“Make sure always that they’re all properly ‘set’ before you fire. If
there’s any fouling at the start, you can call them back and penalize
the fellow that fouled—a yard to five yards, according to your
discretion. But there’s not likely to be any fouling; in most of the
events the fellows are pretty well separated by their handicaps.”

“I’ll be careful,” said Irving. He inspected the revolver. “It’s all
loaded?”

“Yes—and there are some blank cartridges. Now, you’re all equipped. If
any questions come up—I’ll be down at the field; I’m to be one of the
judges and you can call on me.”

At luncheon Irving entered into the talk about the sports to come,
without giving any intimation as to the part which he was to play.

“They’ve given Heath only thirty yards over Lou Collingwood,” complained