turning point a few seconds later. Phil and Roger were just ahead of him, and Plum was beside him.
"Go on and win!" he shouted. "I can't keep up with these skates!"
"Here goes for a finish!" yelled Phil, and darted ahead, with Roger at his heels. Then Plum flashed forward, and soon the three were side by side, with Dave about three yards to the rear, followed by Powers.
Coming down the homestretch, Nat Poole thought he had it all to himself. He was glad of it, for he had set such a fast pace at the start that he was becoming winded, and he had to fairly gasp for breath. He looked over his shoulder, and as nobody was near he slackened his speed a little.
"Keep it up, Nat!" yelled one of his supporters. "Go it, old man!"
"Morr and Lawrence are crawling up!"
"So is Plum!"
These last cries startled Nat, and he sought to strike out as he had at the start. But his wind was now completely gone—and the finishing line was still a quarter of a mile away.
"There goes Morr to the front!"
"Lawrence is after him, and so is Plum!"
"Here comes Basswood!"
"What's the matter with Porter? He is dropping behind."
