“They are a tie!”
The last cry was true. When still a dozen lengths from the finish Jerry had overtaken Gravling. But they did not remain tie long. Half a dozen strokes and Jerry shot ahead and the bow of his craft overlapped Harry’s stern. “Jerry Upton is second!”
“He’s going to shake up Harry Parker for first place!”
On came the two friends, but now it was noticed that Jerry, although he still rowed his best, seemed to be losing his interest in the race.
“It will be no fun to beat Harry,” was the thought which ran through his head; and then, with a yell from three thousand throats, Harry crossed the line a winner, with our hero not quite half a boat length behind.
“Hurrah for Harry Parker!”
“Hurrah for Jerry Upton!”
Cheer after cheer rent the air, and both lads were immediately surrounded by their friends. Jerry was one of the first to shake his chum’s hand.
“You won it fairly, Harry,” he said. “What kind of time did we make?”
He was greatly pleased to learn that the lake record for two miles had been lowered by forty-three seconds, and that he had helped lower it by forty-two seconds.