He did not care what fellows said, or how much they laughed, as long as Porter swung out well at the reach forward, and Coates straightened his back, and Gilks pulled his oar better through from beginning to end.

To secure these ends he himself was game for any amount of work and trouble, and no cold water could damp either his ardour or his hopefulness.
But the chief sensation with regard to the training of the schoolhouse boat was the sudden appearance of Riddell as its coxswain.

As the reader has heard, the new captain had already been out once or twice "on the quiet" in the pair-oar, and during these expeditions he had learned all he knew of the art of navigation.

The idea of his steering the schoolhouse boat had never occurred either to himself or Fairbairn when he first undertook these practices at the solicitation of his friend.
But after a lesson or two he showed such promise that the idea did strike Fairbairn, who mentioned it to one or two of his set and asked their advice.
These judges were horrified naturally at the idea.

Riddell was too heavy, too clumsy, too nervous.