I could feel their eyes on me, watching every stroke I took.
Dak, Pete Tyson, Wean, and I were rowing together in the tanks, working on the finer points of the catch. Charlie Poole was standing below us, occasionally offering bits of advice, and beside him stood Norm Graf. Every once in a while, glancing out at my oar, I could see them conferring, trying to puzzle something out.
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