Chapter 24

A GREAT VICTORY

"They're off!"

"Mechanicsburg leads!"

"Yes, she does, smarty; better look again! They're tied, neck and neck!"

"But watch that stroke, will you; did you ever see anything so fine? Oh! you poor Riverport, get your tear-rags ready to weep!"

"Wait a little. You'll be laughing out of the other side of your mouth, Crabtree!"

So the various backers of the two teams bantered each other as they kept their eyes fixed on the rival shells. Thef boats were pushing up against the strong current of the Mohunk, steadily biting into it, and increasing the distance between them and the stakeboat that was presently to mark the closing scene of the river drama.

Steadily they kept on, nearing the bend that would shut them out from the sight of the great crowds gathered on either bank near the judges' boat. If the cheering diminished in volume at that point, it was taken up above, until one long wave of sound arose, every conceivable noise being used to create an uproar, from horns and whistles to megaphones, and class yells from the various schools.

It was a time long looked forward to, and which would last for so short a period that everyone seemed to think it necessary to exhaust himself or herself as speedily as possible.

"There they are, turning the bend now!" declared the anxious Cissy. "Oh! which one leads, Flo; tell me, please?"

"As near as I can make out, they seem to be running evenly," the other girl replied, with the glasses to her eyes, as though she could not drop them, or even gratify the curiosity of her best chum by allowing her a peep.

"And do you see Sid, and is he showing all the others how to keep cool, and hold himself in reserve against the last home quarter-stretch?" demanded Cissy.

"Well, I like that, now!" exclaimed the indignant Flo, who, as we chance to know, also had someone she admired in that school crew; "just as if there didn't happen to be seven other fellows rowing alongside Sid Wells. I know one at least who plays second fiddle to nobody."

"There they go around the bend!" cried another girl.

"And listen to the roars above there; will you?" called a boy passing by, who was decked out in Riverport colors. "Why, there must be a whole mob of people up to see 'em turn the other boat. I'd like to be there right now, if I could jump back here to see the finish."

"Watch the signals!" now arose on every hand.

Everybody knew what this meant, and consequently the eyes of the entire multitude began to be fastened on a particular place up at the bend. Here arrangements had been made by those in charge of the race, whereby the news would be flashed to those far down the stream which one of the rival boats had managed to make the turn ahead.

"Which are the signals?" one boy asked, as though he had become slightly confused, owing to the excited condition of his mind; and which, after all, was not to be wondered at, with all that racket around him, and his pulses thrilled with the hope he hugged to his heart that Riverport might win.

"Red if Mechanicsburg is ahead, and blue if Riverport turns first!" someone obligingly called out.

"There goes the flag up!" shrieked a voice just then.

There was a tall pole at the bend, and they could see some dark object mounting rapidly upward. The flag was bunched in some manner, to be released when it reached the top of the mast And how those few seconds did seem like hours to the anxious hearts of the onlookers, who were holding their very breath in suspense.

Then a mighty shout broke out that was like the great billows dashing on a rock-bound coast:

"It's blue! Riverport turns first!"

"Oh! you Mechanicsburg, how we pity you right now!"

"A runaway! They'll never be in sight when we cross the line!"

"The easiest thing ever! Football, baseball, and now rowing; why, you're not in it at all, Mechanicsburg!"

"Sure they are--in the soup!"

However, in spite of all this brave talk, those who taunted the up-river boys understood that it was quite too soon to do much crowing. What if Riverport had succeeded in getting the inside track of their rivals, so as to turn the upper boat first, that did not mean the others would lie down, and allow their old-time enemies of many a hard-fought game to triumph over them. Mechanicsburg players had the reputation of being stayers, who would not admit defeat until the last man was out, or the concluding yard been passed over.

Doubtless both boats were even now coming down the river at a marvelous pace. The question remained to be seen whether Mechanicsburg could throw enough power into their strokes to cut down the lead their rivals had obtained, and forge ahead as they drew near the goal.

"Will Colon overdo himself again?"

That was the question one white-faced Riverport boy put to a mate as they stood there, with their eyes glued on the bend above, around which the boats must come flying at any second now.

"Aw! come off with you, Tatters," was the immediate and scornful reply; "you know mighty well what made him drop that other time. Hadn't he been pretty near drowned the day before, so that his nerves shut up on him like a jack-knife? He's fit as a fiddle now, they say; and Bristles Carpenter is pulling like a race-horse. You watch and see. We're bound to win this race in a walk."

"There they come!"

The boats shot around the bend, and it was seen that while Riverport still held the lead, it was only by a margin of part of a length. As yet, then, it might be called anybody's race, since a very slight thing would serve to turn the tables.

On the river road could be seen the car belonging to Judge Colon, racing along from point to point; and above all other sounds the spectators could hear the sharp, shrill voice of Coach Shays as he shouted words of cheer to his crew; or warned them against some possible fatal blunder.

Despite the gruelling pull against the current that had marked the first half of the fiercely contested race, both young crews seemed to be keeping in perfect rhythm with the movements of their coxswains. And doubtless those shrewd leaders were keenly on the alert for any advantage that might come to them through either a quickening of the pace, if they thought the rowers capable of standing it, or some other change in the existing conditions.

Louder grew the shouts and songs as the two boats came flying down the stream, the young oarsmen pulling like mad to either retain or secure an advantage. Hope flickered up again in the hearts of the loyal Mechanicsburg rooters, who had well nigh taken a slump when they learned that their favorites were behind at the half-way boat.

How they did cheer their boys on! It was enough to almost make any fellow try to perform impossibilities, and strain himself to the breaking point, to hear how his comrades were banking all their hopes on him in particular. Loud and dear sounded each name of the Mechanicsburg rowers through a megaphone, backed by a voice that had Semi-Colon's put out of the running:

"Hennessy--Sherley--Harkness--Gould--Smith--Boggs--Waterman--Jones-- Wagner--_everybody pull!_"

And they did certainly pull for all they were worth, desperately anxious to overcome that half boat-length that still lay between them.

But, on the other, hand, an equal number of young athletes in the other shell were just as doggedly determined not to yield one inch, if it could be held by any power of theirs. Brad believed he could call for just one more little advance in the stroke, and he was only waiting until they reached a certain spot marked in his mind as the place where the final spurt must be made.

"Now, Riverport, once more, and for the last time, _give way!_" came in the shrill tones of the coach.

Immediately the final spurt was on. Mechanicsburg, too, had been holding just a mite in reserve for this killing last quarter of a mile. As a consequence, the two boats seemed to retain about the same relative position as before, despite this change of stroke to a faster one.

The excitement ashore, as they drew rapidly nearer the line, was tremendous. Some fellows jumped up and down, waving their hats, and shrieking; while girls swung their colored banners frantically any way, in order to add to the confusion.

But there was not a single one who would remove their eyes for even a second from the stirring spectacle of those two shells, spinning side by side down the river, with only the little space of a second, as it were, marking the difference between victory and defeat.

Now they were close on the line, and Mechanicsburg gave one mighty pull, as if hoping to send their boat at least level with that of their antagonists, so that the chances of a tie might be improved.

"Look at Riverport, would you? They've been keeping it back all the time!"

"Oh! my, what a spurt! See 'em go, boys! We win! we win! Riverport takes the race! Hurrah! whoop! R-i-v-e-r-p-o-r-t! Siss! boom! ah!"

Amidst the roar of uncounted voices, the booming of several cannon held in readiness for just this very purpose, the bleating of horns, and everything else that could be utilized to create a racket, the Riverport shell shot pass the deciding stakeboat, fully a length ahead of their rivals.

It had been a clean race, with not a single note of discord. Although beaten, Mechamcsburg had carried their colors with honor; and a mighty shout from friend and foe alike attested to the satisfaction felt by all who had witnessed the close contest.