spider, darted ahead, the water swirling under the broad blades.
"Hurray!" yelled the crowd along the bank and on the dock.
"They're off!" shouted Jerry Jackson.
"The first spin!" added his brother. "I wonder if we can turn out a winning crew?"
"Of course we can, Joe me lad!" cried Bricktop Molloy, coming up at that moment. "Of course that's not sayin' it wouldn't be much better with me in the boat, but it can't be helped now. I'm a bit late," he added. "Ten thousand maledictions on Pitchfork for detainin' me. But who's that at bow?"
"Bossy," some one told him.
"That calf! Sure he can row though!" the Irish student added, half-admiringly, as he watched the efforts of the rich lad. The shell was well out in the river now, spinning along at a rapid pace. Of course it was far from being at racing speed, but even a little power sent the knife-like boat along at a great rate, so little resistance was there.
"Steady all!" called Mr. Lighton, in a low voice, as he noticed a tendency to splash on the part of some. "Get your oars in the water with force. Get hold of the water all together. When you do, it will sound like a stone falling in—a chug—a noise like a 'rotten egg', as it is called.
