ve they can beat
us, though, do you?"

"I don't know a thing about it, Walter. Naturally, I'll yell for Burrton
with you."

"We'll win, I think. Yes, I'm sure we will."

Walter grew more and more nervous as the time slipped away and the
signal was hoisted up the river that in five minutes the race would be
on. His father looked at him curiously, conscious that the boy was
unduly excited over something more than the race.

But when the signal went up, Douglas was absorbed with all the rest of
the howling, jumping, gesticulating crowd of undergraduates.

A gun went off up the river. The white smoke puff rose gracefully above
the trees on the bank. The course was a straight-away three miles. Two
thin black streaks side by side on the water began to move toward the
red and green goal posts, and the great race was on. The minute the
starting gun was fired, Paul saw Walter lean forward and put his face in
his hands. He then lifted his head, put both hands on the rail of the
seat in front of him, and gazed up the river with a look so intense that
even the faces about him by contrast were calm. Paul found himself
looking oftener at Walter than at the race. From where they sat it was
impossible to tell which crew was in the lead. The black streaks up the
river grew more distinct and another gun fired sent the news along the
course that the first mile of the race had been covered, with Burrton
slightly in the lead.

CHAPTER II

WHEN the gun marked the second mile of the race there was not a quarter
of a boat's length distance between Burrton and Brainerd, but Burrton
was leading. By a system of flag signals, the spectators on the
grandstand at the end of the course were informed of the relative
situation of the two crews at every quarter mile. Both crews were
apparently in good condition and rowing in splendid form. The last mile
was always the hardest fought. As the boats began to enter the last
quarter of this mile, the excitement rose to the highest pitch. First
Burrton made a spurt that put them a boat's length ahead of their
rivals. Then Brainerd responded to its coxswain's call and closed up the
gap, gradually lapping its bow past the stern of the Burrton shell. Then
Burrton drew away again for half a boat's length. Brainerd doggedly
clung to that position for a short distance and then began slowly to
fall behind, as the boats shot into the last eighth of the mile. Only a
hundred yards now, and the race was won