The boys of Columbia High on the river

by Graham B. Forbes

There had been no actual fouling. These contestants were boys of honor, who did not wish to win a race by trickery or jockeying methods. It must be a clean win calculated to stand the closest scrutiny in order to satisfy all parties.

Down the river they shot like arrows speeding from stout bows.

The din now was fairly deafening, and each rower's muscles were strained to the utmost to hold out. Frank knew from the coach's gestures that he had increased his lead to some two boat lengths, and that Clifford was not gaining a foot despite the herculean efforts of her trained rowers.

If the Columbia High boys could only hold their own the race was already as good as won. But Frank began to be alarmed. He watched the whole crew, but much of his attention was taken up with a single member, and that, Jonsey.

The fellow had done nobly thus far. His ambition was tremendous, and in fact he allowed himself to be carried away with it, so that there were times when the port side seemed to be outpulling the starboard four.

Jonsey was showing positive signs of distress when the boats flew around the bend, and came in sight of the goal. Oh! if he could only hold out just so many seconds more! It was agony to Frank to see his wobbly motions, as the boy strove to do his level best.

Half the distance had been covered, and the final dash was before them. Would Clifford be able to make another spurt? If so there was a chance for them to win.

But the pace had been so exceedingly hot all the way down from the island stake that Clifford lacked the breath to add a single stroke to their already rapid headway, much as they desired to do so. Perhaps the watchful coxswain in the Clifford boat had already seen the tottering form of poor Jonsey, and he was basing his calculations on what seemed imminent.

Frank almost ceased to draw his breath, so intense was the strain. They were now not more than two hundred yards from the railroad bridge, with the clamor all around them. But Jonsey was weakening fast! He seemed to move mechanically, and his pull lacked steam, so that his mates were forced to put on extra efforts in order to counteract the disastrous effect of his failing powers.

So far as utility went, Jonsey had already become "dead wood." What Frank feared most was that in his collapse he might confuse the other rowers, and break up the rhythm of the stroke, so that Clifford would forge ahead at the finish.