# The Eight-Oared Victors/Chapter 6
#### CHAPTER VI
##### THE PRACTICE SHELL

The four chums stared, almost uncomprehendingly, into the open box. It was of good size, capable of holding several trophy cups, with compartments, velvet lined, for smaller pieces of jewelry.
"The things all fell out!" cried Tom. "They must be scattered around here somewhere. Let's look," and he started off.
"No use," said Frank, quietly.
"Why not?" asked Tom, in wonder.
"Because those things never fell out of that box," went on the Big Californian.
"Why didn't they?" demanded Phil. "When the box was knocked around in the water, or even inside the locker, why wouldn't it be split open and the things fall out?"
"It wasn't split, as you can easily see," went on Frank, calmly, "and the cover wasn't forced open by banging against the rocks. It was opened by some slender instrument being shoved under the catch, and then pried upon. See, there are the ​marks. No rocks ever made those," and he showed several scratches in the shiny surface of the box, near the clasp. The scratches went entirely under the broad brass fastener, showing that something thin enough to have been employed in this way was used. As Frank had said, no rock against which the case might have been tossed by the storm-waters, could have done it.
"Well, let's take it to Mr. Farson," went on Sid. "We'll tell him how we found it, and he can then see that we had nothing to do with taking the things—even in a joke. Let's hurry back to town."
"Let's do nothing of the sort!" exclaimed Frank quickly.
"Why not?" demanded his chums in chorus.
"If you want tongues to wag any more—if you want a real suspicion to be cast on us, where there's only the faintest one now—if you want to make real trouble, take that box to Mr. Farson. If you don't, and if you want to get at the real facts in this case, just keep quiet about it."
For a moment there was silence, and then Tom objected:
"Well, maybe it's clear to you, Frank, but I can't see it that way."
"Me either," declared Phil.
"Why, it's as simple as anything," declared the Big Californian.
​"Well, maybe it is," admitted Sid, "but kindly translate. It's too deep for us."
"Look here," went on Frank. "That jeweler saw us at the wreck; didn't he?"
"No question about that," admitted Tom.
"And we helped him look around. We were here first; and we said we didn't see anything of the stuff."
"No question about that," admitted Sid, following Tom's lead.
"And now here we go and find the empty box—it has every appearance of having been forced open by human hands. We take it to Mr. Farson, and say—'Here's your box, Mr. Jeweler; but it's empty—that's just how we found it, honest it is!' Say, wouldn't he smell a rat right away, and think we had the stuff?"
"No question about that," declared Phil. "That ends it! Frank is right, we'll have to keep mum about this for our own sakes, though I don't like it. It makes us look guilty."
"Not a bit of it," declared Frank, stoutly. "It gives us a chance to find out who the guilty party is."
"Who do you suppose it is?" asked Tom.
"I haven't the least idea," answered the California lad, quickly. "Someone may have been on the island before we were, and found, and rifled, the box; or that person may have come ​after we did. That's one thing we've got to find out—and it isn't going to be any cinch, take it from me!"
They all examined the box, and then looked about the place where it had been found, for other clues. But they found none—no other parts of the wrecked boat seemed to be there.
As they were coming away, to get to their boat and row to Randall, Tom stooped and picked from the ground a bit of gaudily-colored silk, a plaid of many colors, in a sort of ribbon.
"What's that?" asked Sid.
"Looks like part of a Scotch necktie," replied the tall pitcher.
"Let's have a look," suggested Frank, as he closely examined the piece of silk. "That's no part of a necktie!" he exclaimed. "It's a piece of a Mexican silk handkerchief of all the colors of the rainbow. I've seen 'em on sale out in my state. The Mexicans and some other folks are fond of sporting them, but they were always too rich for my blood. But, fellows, do you notice one thing about this?" and he held it up for inspection.
"Do you mean it might have been worn by the jeweler, and dropped in his motor-boat?" asked Tom.
"It might have been worn by the jeweler, but not very likely," said Frank. "In the first place, ​notice that it shows no signs of having been wet, except by the dew. It was never in the flood, or it would have mud on it. And I don't believe it was worn by the jeweler, and dropped here; otherwise, having good eyesight, as all jewelers and watch repairers have, he would have seen his box."
"Then you think——," began Sid.
"That it was dropped here by someone who was on this island either before, or after, we were here the first time; by someone who found the box, opened it, and took the stuff away," finished Frank.
"And who that person was it's up to us to find out," declared Tom.
"Exactly. And here's another thing," went on Frank, "this piece of silk is torn off in a long strip, cleanly, and it looks to me as if it might have been one of several so torn, or ripped, to make a bundle of the cups and jewelry. If we can find a handkerchief like this, with a strip torn off, we'll come pretty close to the person who has the Boxer Hall cups," finished the Big Callfornlan.
"Maybe the fellow tore off a couple of strips, used the main part of his handkerchief in which to wrap his stuff, and left one strip here by mistake," suggested Phil.
"Maybe," admitted Frank. "Well, we've got about all we can find here, I guess. I vote we get back, and talk this matter over among ourselves. And, mind, not a word to a soul!"
​All promised and then, carefully concealing in their boat the jewelry box, with the piece of silk inside, they rowed back to college.
But the discussion they brought to bear on the matter in their room later, failed to throw any light on the subject. All the conclusion they could come to was that if they found the owner of the gaudy handkerchief they might find the possessor of the jewelry.
In the days that followed rowing matters occupied much of the attention and the talk of the Randall students. The chairmen of the various committees called meetings, and made reports of progress to the general athletic body. The offer of the alumni to provide a fine boathouse, and a rowing equipment, was formally accepted, and the required promise made.
There was no lack of material for an eight-oared shell—two in fact—several fours, a couple of doubles, and one or two singles. In response to a request for a list of what was needed, it was decided to ask for one first-class eight-oared shell, for two fours, two doubles, and three singles, though the gift committee, naturally, would do as they thought best. This would give plenty of craft in which to practice. In view of the expense of the eight-oared shell it was decided that the students themselves would subscribe enough to purchase a second-hand eight for practice.
​They learned of one in good condition, that could be had at a bargain, also a single and a four, and, as it would take some time for the generous old graduates to provide their equipment, it was voted to buy the second-hand ones for use the remainder of that Spring.
"That will give us a little time for practice," decided Kindlings, who had the matter in charge. He had been elected temporary captain of a tentative eight crew; a temporary arrangement, as It would not be known, until the coach had selected the crew, who would row in the different craft. There would be try-outs as soon as possible.
The old boathouse would have to answer until the new one was built, but, to accommodate the many students who now thronged it, a temporary addition was built, the coming warm weather making it unnecessary to have it very substantial.
The interest in rowing increased every day. Our four chums and their friends were perhaps the foremost in showing their delight in the coming events.
Boxer Hall had been communicated with, as had Fairview Institute, and both had agreed to enter into triangular-league contests that Fall, the details to be arranged later.
The second-hand shells had been ordered, and Mr. Lighton agreed to do the water coaching, in addition to looking after the baseball lads, for ​the affairs of the diamond were beginning to hold the attention of many. Of course our friends did not lose interest in baseball because of the coming water sports.
Meanwhile no further trace of the missing cups or jewelry had been found. No one claimed the reward offered by Mr. Farson, to which the Boxer Hall Athletic Association added a substantial sum for the recovery of their trophies. Our friends said nothing of their find, and, though there was hardly a breath of suspicion against them, even in Boxer Hall, still they fretted.
"We've just got to find out who took those things!" cried Tom, one afternoon, coming back from a row on the river.
"That's right!" agreed his chums.
A number of the ordinary rowing boats had been secured, and Mr. Lighton spent some time giving the lads an idea of the rudiments of getting down to the right stroke. Of course with toe stretchers, and sliding seats, there would come a vast change, so he did not want to go too deeply into the matter until the right craft were at hand.
"Well, what shall we do this afternoon?" asked Sid, as he yawningly tossed aside a book that he had dipped into on coming to his room after a lecture.
"I'm for a row!" exclaimed Tom.
"We ought to do some baseball practice," ​suggested Phil. "We've sort of been letting that slide."
"Let's do a little of——" began Frank, when the door flew open, and in came Kindlings, all excited.
"It's come!" he cried.
"What?" chorused the others.
"The new shell—I mean the second-hand eight—the boat we're going to do our practice in! I just got word from the freight office that it's there. Let's get a truck, and have it carted to the river. I'm crazy to get in and go for a row!"
"Hurray! That's the stuff!" cried Tom. "Come on, everybody!" and he led the way, the others following.