There were seven entries, all by young fellows of Jerry’s age, and as the youth looked at his opponents he felt that the race would be no easy one.
Saturday afternoon, the time appointed for the contest, came, bright and clear, and it found the lake front crowded to its utmost capacity. Many came over from Rockpoint, but it was noticed that those who had belonged to Si Peters’ crowd were absent.
The race was to be two miles long, up the lake and back again. The boats were all drawn up in a line, and everything was made ready for a start. Jerry was at one end of the line, with Harry at the other, and the remaining five contestants between them.
Bang! went the gun on the judges’ boat, and away shot the seven rowers like one man; and the race was begun.
For over half a mile the seven contestants kept almost side by side. Then three of them were seen to drop behind.
“Gravling is ahead!”
“Harry Parker is second.”
“Phil Raymond is a close third!”
“Jerry Upton is crawling up!”
So the shouting went on, as the four leaders swept past. When the turning point was reached, Harry led, Raymond came second, Gravling third, and Jerry fourth. The remaining three felt they were out of the race, and rowed back to the boathouse.