All had caught the stroke perfectly and were doing very well. They did not hurry, for the course was over two miles and a half long and they did not wish to tire themselves out before the finish.
Less than half of the race was over when the sudden summer storm broke in all its fury. There was a vivid lightning flash across the sky followed by a terrific crash of thunder and then came little less than a deluge, which sent many of the observation boats to the shore in a hurry.
“Gee, we’re going to catch a squall!” exclaimed Spouter. And he was right, the heavy gusts of wind soon sending the whitecaps bobbing up and down all around them.
“Don’t give up, boys!” shouted Gif, to make himself heard above the sudden roar of the elements. “We’ve got to win this race, storm or no storm.”
“Here come the Longley boys!” exclaimed Jack, as they were rounding one of the islands. “Great Scott! did you ever see it blow so hard?”
The squall seemed to grow stronger by the instant, and the boys had all they could do to keep the boat from foundering. Nevertheless, they kept to their oars and soon saw the finishing line but a short distance ahead. Only the motor-boat with the judges was nearby, all other craft having hurried away to seek shelter.
Anxious to win the race, the Longley crew also kept on. But they had swerved somewhat from their course, and now in trying to regain the proper position they suddenly shipped a big wave.
“Hi! We can’t stand this!” cried one of the lads in sudden alarm.
“Pull! Pull!” yelled another. “We’ve got to win, I tell you! Pull!”
Then came another vivid flash of lightning over the lake, followed by a deafening clap of thunder. The shock was so terrific that several of the lads in the Longley boat were seen to throw up their hands and let their oars go. Then wind and waves hit the rowboat a smashing blow on the side and over it went, hurling the six occupants into the lake!