"Cou--couldn't hel--help it," panted Jerry, He was all but winded, for the pulling had been too much for him.

"The Rovers win! The Rovers win!" was the shout that went up, and in the midst of the hubbub d.i.c.k and Tom crossed the line, winning by at least six lengths. Koswell and Larkspur were so disgusted that they did not even finish, but stopped rowing and turned away from the float.

"The Rovers win," announced Frank Holden. "A fine race, too," he added. "Let me congratulate you," and he waved his hand pleasantly to d.i.c.k and Tom.

"I got a pain in my side, and that made me miss the stroke," said Jerry Koswell lamely. "Some day I'll race them again, and win, too."

"You should have won this time," growled Dudd Flockley when he was alone with his cronies. "I dropped twenty dollars on that race."

"I never thought they could row like that," was Larkspur's comment. "I don't think I want to row against them again."

d.i.c.k and Tom were warmly congratulated by all their friends. It had been a well-earned victory, and they were correspondingly happy.

Koswell was sourer than ever against them, and vowed he would "square up" somehow, and Larkspur agreed to help him. Dudd Flockley was glum, for his spending money for the month was running low, and it was going to be hard to pay the wagers he had lost.

CHAPTER XIV

WILLIAM PHILANDER TUBES

On the following Sat.u.r.day the Rover boys went down to Ashton in the afternoon. They had arranged for the hire of a large touring car, with a competent chauffeur, and were to take Dora and the Laning girls out for a ride to another town called Toddville. Here they were to have supper at the hotel, returning to Ashton in the evening.

Lest it be thought strange that the girls could get permission from the seminary authorities to absent themselves, let me state that matters had been explained by Mrs. Stanhope and Mrs. Laning to the princ.i.p.al of Hope, so Dora and her cousins were free to go out with the Rovers whenever they could go out at all.

"We'll have the best time ever!" cried Tom enthusiastically. "I hope you ordered a fine supper over the telephone, d.i.c.k."

"I did," was the reply. "Just the things I know the girls like."

"And a bouquet of flowers," added Sam. He knew that Grace loved flowers.

"Yes. I didn't forget them, Sam,"

The boys arrived in Ashton a little ahead of time, and while waiting for the chauffeur of the car to appear they walked down to the depot to see if there would be any new arrivals on the Sat.u.r.day special.

When the train pulled into the depot a tall, well-dressed youth, with an elaborate dress-suit case and a bag of golf sticks, descended from the parlor car and gazed around him wonderingly.

"Are you--ah--sure this is--ah--Ashton?" he inquired of the porter.

"Yes, sah," was the brisk answer.

"Not a--ah--very large place, is it, now?" drawled the pa.s.senger.

"Look who's here!" burst out Tom as he hurried forward.

"Why, it's Tubbs--William Philander Tubbs!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Sam.

And sure enough, it was Tubbs, the most dudish pupil Putnam Hall had ever known, and one with whom the cadets had had no end of fun.

"My dear old b.u.t.tertub, how are you?" called out Tom loudly, and caught the new arrival by the shoulder. "How are you, and how is the wife, and the eight children?"

"Why--ah--is it really Tom Rover!" gasped Tubbs. He stared at Tom and then at d.i.c.k and Sam. "What are you--ah--doing here, may I inquire?

But please," he added hurriedly, "don't call me b.u.t.tertub, and don't say I have a wife and children, when I haven't." And Tubbs looked around to see if anybody had overheard Tom's remark.

"We go to school here," said d.i.c.k as he shook hands. "Brill College."

"Well, I never!" gasped the tall dude. "Brill, did you say?"

"That's it," put in Sam.

"I am going there myself."

"You!" roared Tom. "Hail Columbia, happy land! That's the best yet, Tubblets. We'll have dead loads of fun. Did you bring your pet poodle and your fancywork, and those beautiful red and yellow socks you used to wear?"

"I hope you didn't forget that green and pink necktie you used to have," came from Sam, "and the blue handkerchief with the purple variegated border."

"I--ah--I never had those things," stormed Tubbs. "Oh, say, do you really go to Brill?" he questioned, with almost a groan in his voice.

"Sure as you're born," answered d.i.c.k. "We'll be glad to have you there, William Philander. You'll be a credit to the inst.i.tution. We have a few fellows who dress well, but you'll top them all. I know it."

"Do you--ah--really think I can--ah--I will be as well dressed as the--ah--as anybody?" asked the dude eagerly. He was a fair scholar, but his mind was constantly on the subject of what to wear and how to wear it.

"Oh, you'll lead the bunch, and all the girls at Hope will fall dead in love with you," answered Tom.

"Hope? What do you mean?"

"That's the seminary for girls. Fine lot of girls there, waiting to see you, Philliam Willander."

"William Philander, please. So there is a girls' school here, eh?

That's--ah--very nice. Yes, I like the girls--I always did. But, Tom, please don't call me--ah--b.u.t.tertub. I think it's horrid, don't you know."

"All right, Washtub, anything you say stands still," answered Tom cheerfully. "I wouldn't hurt your feelings for a million warts."

"There is the carriage for Brill," said Sam, pointing it out.

"Are you going with me?" asked the dude.

"No. We are not going back until this evening," explained d.i.c.k. "We'll see you later."

"Only one other student going with you," added Tom mischievously.

"He's kind of queer, but I guess he won't hurt you." He had seen an innocent, quiet youth, named Smith, getting into the college turnout.

"Queer?" asked Tubbs.

"Yes. Gets fits, or something like that. He won't hurt you if you keep your hand to your nose."

"My--ah--my hand to my nose?"