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"Yes, because you hadn't the ordinary sense to keep up appearances till the race, and must begin to practise your tricks a month beforehand!" said Silk, greatly enraged, for him. "All very well," said Gilks, sullenly. "I should have liked to see you rowing your best with that puppy steering; thinking he's doing it so wonderfully, the prig!"
Wyndham would have given much to be free to make a full confession of all his "going wrong" to the sympathetic Riddell, but, heartily weary as he was of Silk and Gilks, he had promised them to keep their secrets, and young Wyndham, whatever his faults, was honest. Riddell was quick enough to see that there was something of the sort, and did not press to know more.
It was rather hard surely on Gilks, who may have encouraged his friend to rely on the victory of the Parrett's boat, but who certainly was as much astounded and mortified by the accident as he was. "There must be another race," said he, hurriedly. "They can't take this as decisive, I tell you. They must have another." "You wouldn't have said so if the right boat had won," said Silk, with a sneer.
"I don't mind how you do it as long as there's no mistake about it," said Silk. With which ungenerous admission Gilks produced a couple of cigar-ends from his pocket, and these two nice boys proceeded to spend a dissipated evening. The reader will have guessed from what has already been said that the coming boat-race was every day becoming a more and more exciting topic in Willoughby.
There was a tremble in his voice as he said this, which went to the captain's heart. "I hope it's not so bad as that," said he, quietly. "Everybody here hates me, and they'll hate me all the more now," said Gilks. "You and young Wyndham are the only fellows that have been good to me, and I've done both of you nothing but mischief." "I think," said Riddell, "the fellows will soon forgive.
"It'll be a jolly good race," said Telson. "Old Parson is coxing Parrett's, and it looks like a win for them. Only we aren't so bad, and now Gilks is out of the boat and Riddell's settled as cox we ought to make a race of it. Fairbairn's quite as long a reach as Bloomfield, only he doesn't kick his stretcher so hard does he, Parson?" "Rather not," said Parson.
"I don't suppose any one could make him out enough," said King. "It's awful rot." "Yes, and Ashley says it's awfully bad Latin." Parson laughed satirically. "Jolly lot they care what sort of Latin it is as long as they can do us over it." "I believe," said Bosher, "Gilks has a key to Todhunter." "He has?
Fairbairn rowed on a stroke or two without apparently noticing it, then turning sharply round in the middle of a stroke he discovered the reason. The blade of Gilks's oar was about a foot under the surface, and he himself was lurching over his seat, with the handle of the oar up to about his chin. "What on earth do you mean by it?" demanded Fairbairn, angrily. "Mean by what?" asked Gilks.
"We must get hold of the young 'un again," said Silk, "and you'll have to manage it." "Who? I?" said Gilks, with a bitter laugh. "Yes, you. And don't talk so loud, do you hear? You'll have to manage it, and I think I can put you up to a way for getting hold of him." "You can spare yourself the trouble," said Gilks, stopping short and folding his arms doggedly. "I won't do it."
Even Bloomfield's taking his part he's gammoned him somehow." "Well, that doesn't prevent your going and hooting him, does it?" said Gilks, with a sneer. "You've a right to enjoy yourself as well as any one else." "What! have you come round to worship his holiness too?" asked Wibberly, who had at least expected some sympathy from Gilks.
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