The glee of the Rivertown scholars was in proportion to the anxiety of their rivals.
But though the representatives of Springtown responded to the demands of their mates, Harry had a flying lead and, exert themselves as they would, the boys from up the river could not gain on him.
His arms and feet swinging in perfect rhythm, Harry sped over the smooth ice, the shouts of his schoolmates ringing in his ears.
“You’ve got a good lead, slow up!” shouted those of his mates who were nearest to him, while others cautioned him to take it easy, in the fear that he could not last the full distance. But the boy knew himself better than they, and kept on at his top speed, unmindful of their advice.
Hard behind him came a Springtown skater, but could not cut down his lead appreciably.
Barely able to hold their own with the others, Paul and Jerry struggled along, and as they saw that their chum had so great an advantage they devoted their energies to coaching him.
“You’ve got them all puffing, and there’s only a quarter more to go! There isn’t one of them who can spurt! Just take care of yourself and don’t fall!” they shouted from time to time.
As the cries reached his ears, Harry raised his head, looked for the finish line, and to his delight saw it even nearer than he supposed.
The sight made him feel so happy that he determined to give a still greater exhibition of his speed; and striking out as though he were perfectly fresh, instead of having skated more than a mile and three-quarters, he raced over the ice, opening farther and farther the distance that separated him from his Springtown rivals.
His spurt had been greeted with gasps of surprise from his schoolmates, and many were the shouts hurled at him to be careful lest he exhaust himself and get beaten out at the finish. When they saw he was skating strong and steadily, however, the Rivertown boys and girls gave vent to the wildest glee, and howled and cheered, breaking their schools yells with rhythmic chants of: