Dick Prescott said no more. His straining gaze was now fixed on the finish line. Not one of his chums even glanced at the imaginary line. All their thoughts, like all their glances, were on their paddles.
"A final dash, now!" called Dick. "Slam up the pace for Gridley!"
But Trentville was showing its boasted reserve steam.
Close as they now were to the finish, Pascal had no thought of permitting defeat to come to his crew.
No dinning of whistles was there now. Every spectator waited breathlessly for the outcome that would be reached in the next few seconds.
CHAPTER XXIV
CONCLUSION
Then the end came.
Pascal sank back on his seat with a groan when he had put in the last dip of his paddle that could do any good.
Frantic indeed was the cheering, and now once more came the deafening screech of whistles.