During the first leg of the triangle the shells kept side by side, neither boat gaining more than a foot over the other.
“Gee, but they’re both keeping at it!” cried Jack, who was watching through a pair of fieldglasses he had brought along.
“They’re both out for blood, and no mistake,” was Spouter’s comment.
“Maybe Gif is holding our boys back,” suggested Fatty Hendry. “He knows how to manage them if anybody does.”
“I heard Si Crews telling him to watch their wind,” came from Dan Soppinger. “That’s what helped us. Walt didn’t crowd us until he knew that we could hold out; and then he drove us for fair. If that race had been a hundred feet longer I’d have keeled over,” he added, with a shake of his head.
On and on swept the two shells, and then it was seen that Colby Hall was slowly going ahead, first a foot, then a yard, then two yards.
“Hurrah! Hurrah!” yelled Fred, throwing his cap into the air. “Now our boys are doing it!”
“Colby! Colby!” was the cry that swept across the water. “Go it, boys! Go it!”
“Pull, Longley, pull!” was the cry of the opposition. “You can do it! Pull for all you’re worth!”