“I haven’t forgotten,” said Barrows. “But I’m the only one who can work that. Barnes, I thought you had some nerve. I didn’t think you had a yellow streak big enough to make you quit at the first sign of trouble. That’s not the way you used to work for Harding.”

“I’m no quitter,” said Barnes, flushing. “You’re up against a cold deal here, but I’ll stand in with you to the finish. What do you want me to do?”

“Take one of the motor boats,” said Barrows. “You know how to work that end of it. That will leave me free in case anything goes wrong with that plan.”

“All right,” said Barnes. “Count me in. Are you going to monkey with the two early races—the freshman and the four, or will you stick to the big race?”

“Just the big race,” said Barrows, looking satisfied.

CHAPTER XXXIV
WON IN THE LAST STROKES.

Jim Phillips, in the light of the surprising discovery of the loaded keels of the two shells, had not forgotten what he had seen on the marked map. As he went down the river before the four-oared race, which was to start at the bridge, he looked eagerly at the points along the course that had been indicated on the map, but he could see nothing to arouse suspicion. However, that did not fully convince him that they had drawn all the teeth of the plotters by changing the shells in which the race was to be rowed. It was unlikely that there would be any attempt to interfere with the minor races—Barrows and his crowd would, undoubtedly, confine themselves to the varsity contest.

The three Yale coaches, with Jim Phillips and Bill Brady as specially invited guests, were in the Elihu Yale to watch the race between the four-oared shells, following behind the referee’s boat, so as not to interfere in any way with the oarsmen. The four, though it had been under the general supervision of Dick Merriwell, like all the other crews, had been the especial charge of Hargreaves, who was very proud of the quartet he had trained, and fully confident of their ability to beat the Harvard crew, although the latter had been a favorite up to the very hour of the race, being the same crew that had established a new record for two miles for four-oared crews the year before.

At the sound of the referee’s pistol, Harvard got away slightly in the lead, rowing fast and at a high stroke. But Hargreaves had coached his men for just such a start. He was not afraid of any lead Harvard got in the first mile, and the Yale four, rowing in perfect form, was content to keep its own pace and let Harvard open up clear water before the first flags were reached. The Harvard enthusiasts in the two trains were wild with delight, for it looked like an easy victory for Harvard. But, at the mile flags, the aspect of the race began to change. The Harvard crew was rowing as well as ever, but Yale began rapidly to overhaul it, and soon the twinkling space of clear water was wiped out. Inch by inch, then, Yale crept up, and a quarter of a mile from the finish there was a tremendous Yale cheer as the prow of the Yale shell showed in front for the first time in the race.