"'Umpty-eight, she is great,
She will win sure as fate."
Evidently the sophomores had been informed about this banner in advance, for they carried one which declared:
"'Umpty-eight isn't in it,
She'll be beaten in a minute."
How they shouted and taunted each other! How they raced along the road! How sure everybody was that he could pick the winner!
The scene at the lake was beautiful and inspiring, for the shore was lined with people and there were flags and bright colors everywhere. On the point there was a great mob, composed mostly of students, who were yelling and cheering and flaunting their flags. The boats on the lake were well filled and gay with colors. New Haven swell society was fairly represented, and it certainly was an occasion to stir youthful blood.
The freshman-sophomore-junior race came fourth on the list, and it was to be the event of the day. Strangely enough, the juniors were not reckoned as dangerous by either freshmen or sophomores. Between the last two classes was to come the real tug of war.
In the boathouse the great Bob Collingwood, of the 'Varsity crew, gave the freshmen some advice, and they listened to him with positive awe. He had heard of Merriwell's attempt to introduce the English stroke, and he did not approve of it.
After he had got through Merriwell took his men aside into another part of the boathouse and warned them against thinking of anything Collingwood had said.
"He is all right when he is talking to men who use his style of oar and the regular American stroke, but you will be broke up sure as fate if you think of what he has said that disagrees with my instructions. It is too late now to make any change, and we must win or lose as we have practiced."
"That's right," agreed every man.