“That’s right—Putnam Hall against all comers!” cried Andy.
The race was almost done and Baxter’s crew still had a lead of two lengths. They were rowing with all their might, but their strength was almost gone.
“Pull, fellows!” cried the leader of the opponents. And pull they did until the two boats were bow to bow.
“It’s a tie!”
“No, the Pornell crew is ahead!”
“There they go over the line!”
“Pornell wins by a full length!”
The last cry was correct, and once again the Pornell followers yelled and cheered at the top of their lungs. Dan Baxter’s crew was much crestfallen and rowed to the Putnam Hall boathouse looking glum enough.
“Now here come some more victims!” cried a Pornell enthusiast, as Dale and his crew appeared.
“Boys, we must win!” whispered Dale, with fire in his eyes. “We have simply got to do it. If we don’t those Pornell fellows will never get done crowing over us.”