trained—they could not stand the heart-breaking strain at the finish.
"Come on, you Randall! Come on!" was the cry.
"Boxer's creeping up!"
"No, Randall's taken a spurt!"
Conflicting were the cries. The boats were see-sawIng now. They were getting nearer and nearer to the finish line. The crowds leaned forward. Pandemonium broke loose. All three colleges were being cheered.
"It's going to be a tie!" yelled Phil, as he pointed to the Boxer and Randall shells, now almost bow and bow. "A dead heat! Fairview is out of it!"
"Come on, boys!" implored Tom, stretching out his hands as though to pull their shell forward.
There came a momentary hush. Then a great roar broke out.
"Boxer! Boxer Hall wins! Wow, look at that spurt!"
And, with sinking hearts, our friends watched their rival's shell dart over the line, a winner by a bare quarter of a length—but still a winner.
