“Pull, Colby! Pull!” roared the cadets from that institution. “Pull!”
And the cadets from Colby urged by Gif pulled as they had never pulled before, their eyes staring from their sockets and their breath coming laboredly. But Longley was also pulling, although now the terrific pace was beginning to tell upon the oarsmen from the rival academy. They were all but in, and their coxswain urged them to greater efforts in vain. Now the finishing line was in sight, and it was then that Gif broke out in a wild appeal to those he was directing.
“Now then, boys! Every ounce that’s left in you! Go to it! Make her jump out of the water! Make her jump good!” And with every word his body swayed back and forth and the oarsmen responded with every bit of vital force left in their spent bodies. The shell leaped ahead, while at the same moment those in the other shell slowed up, being unable to keep up the terrific pace.
“It’s Colby’s race! It’s Colby’s race!” was the yell, and it was the truth. Colby shot on and on and then crossed the finishing line a length and three feet to the good.
Then it was that the cadets of Colby Hall and their many friends rent the shore of Clearwater Lake with their cries of exaltation—cries that went echoing back and forth through the hills in the distance. Jack and the others went nearly mad with joy, throwing up their caps and hugging each other. Randy began to do a jig while Andy climbed a flagstaff on the dock and went twisting around it at arm’s length. It was a moment never to be forgotten and one that would live long in the annals of the school on the Rick Rack River.
“Three cheers for Gif Garrison!” called the young major of the battalion, and they were given with a will, many of the girls from Clearwater Hall joining in.
Then all the others who had taken part in the various races were cheered. Many ran down to where the eight-oared shell was now coming in, and as soon as the crew had landed Gif was grabbed by his many friends and hoisted up on a pair of sturdy shoulders and marched around the dock.
“Speech! Speech!” cried someone. But at this Gif shook his head.
“Not just now, boys. I’m too nearly in. Some other time. I’m mighty glad we won the race. Thank you.” And that was all he would say.
Coming on top of the winning of the four-oared race, it was certainly a great triumph, and for the time being the loss in the singles was forgotten. The local band was forced to lead a march around the town in which practically every cadet from Colby Hall and many of the girls from Clearwater Hall, as well as some of the town people, participated. Some had flags, while others carried their horns and rattles, and they made the welkin ring with their cheers.