“Oh, Pornell is going to win,” growled Reff Ritter. “Jack Ruddy and those chaps can’t row.”
“They can row better than you can,” put in Bart Conners.
“Bah!” grumbled Ritter, and walked to another point of the boathouse float.
At the end of the first mile Pornell was slightly in advance. Seeing this, Dale increased the stroke, and at a mile and a quarter the boats were once again side by side.
“Putnam Hall is crawling up!”
“They’ll win out yet!”
“Pull, Pornell, pull!” was the yell from the rival academy lads, and the Pornell boys did pull, the perspiration streaming down the faces of Roy Bock and his cronies.
“Gosh! this is a pace!” panted Andy.
“Don’t talk!” came shortly from Dale. “Pull!”
Again he increased the stroke and Pornell did the same. A quarter of a mile was covered and Pornell was exactly half a boat’s length in the lead.