Behind him came Pinkney and Jerry, side by side.
Then came the half stretch. The leaders still held the same positions.
“Told you Hosmer would win!”
“Jerry Upton is falling behind!”
It was true. Pinkney had increased his stroke and was crawling up slowly but surely to the leader.
“Pull, Jerry, pull,” yelled Harry.
“You dun got to win dat race, suah!” screamed Blumpo.
Jerry heard them, but paid no heed. He was rowing the race of the year—the race that would make his college chums shout with joy or look glum for the balance of the season.
And now the three-quarter mark was past. A quarter of a mile more and the race would be over.
“See! Pinkney is drawing up to Hosmer!”