one. All boats that were not concerned in the race had been compelled to put in near the shore. The umpire was calling out his last instructions through a megaphone, so that every one within reasonable distance could hear what he said.
From his position on the power-boat that was to accompany the rowers on their four-mile course he could see nearly every move made. It was against apparent fouls that he warned the three contestants most of all. Every boat was to keep in its own water, or at least, if it ventured into that of a competitor, it did so at great risk, being held liable for any accident, and under such conditions must be disqualified.
Coach Willoughby was acting as Starter. He knew just how to get a fair start to a race, no matter whether on land or water. The three beautiful shells had been ranged with their sterns at a given line, and with the crack of the pistol every suspended oar fell into the water. Like three machines they were off, heading up the river toward the island that was to be used as the halfway stake.
Amid a salvo of cheers, howls, and braying through horns and megaphones the start was made in perfect allignment. Never had the boats gotten away before with less confusion, thanks to the excellent judgment of the starter.
Coach Willoughby's work being done in that par-
