Crack! There was a puff of white smoke, a little sliver of flame, hardly noticeable in the bright October sunlight; then samecame a splash in the water as the broad blades were dipped in, and the race was on.
“Jack’s got the lead! Jack’s ahead!” cried the friends of our hero, as they ran along the shore of the lake.
“Dock is only tiring him out,” added the adherents of the school bully. “He’ll come in strong at the finish.”
“He will if he doesn’t tire out,” was Nat Anderson’s opinion. “Dock smokes too many cigarettes to be a good oarsman.”
“I suppose you think Ranger will have it all his own way?” spoke Pud Armstrong, a crony of Snaith.
“Not necessarily,” was Nat’s answer as he jogged along. “But I think he’s the better rower.”
“We’ll see,” sneered Pud.
“Yes, we’ll see,” admitted Nat.
The two contestants were now rowing steadily. They had a little over a mile to go to reach the Point, as istit was called; that being the usual limit of impromptu racing events.
The contest between Jack Ranger and Dock Snaith was the result of an argument on oarsmanship, which had taken place in the school gym the night before. It was shortly after the opening of the term at Washington Hall, and in addition to football, which would soon be in full sway, there was rowing to occupy the attention of the students, for the lake, on the shores of which the academy was situated, was well adapted for aquatic sports.