you use your long arms better than that. Now then, both do your level best, and remember to swim clear o' the bow!"
"It's Striker's race," cried the boatswain, who was also in the water. "It stands to reason the man will win."
"I'll wager you a plug of tobacco the boy comes out ahead," answered Hobson. "See what a splendid stroke he's making—I never saw a better, even on the Thames!"
"Let us follow!" cried another, and this all did, but keeping at a safe distance, so as not to interfere with the racers. Mr. Wells had come upon deck and was as much interested as anybody. He shouted loudly to Larry, and the boy heard him, looked up a brief instant, and smiled.
For the first quarter of the distance Larry took the lead and kept it. His stroke was not so long as that of Striker, but it was quicker, and he was, moreover, using his feet to the best possible advantage. But now, as the pair neared the bow of the Columbia, the Yankee sailor began to pull up.
"I'm a-comin', lad!" he puffed. "It's a pity I've got to beat ye, but it can't be helped—I can't afford to lose my reputation as a swimmer among the boys."
