There was no response in words, but each boy grasped his double paddle with a firmer hold, dipped one blade of it into the water and leaned forward so that he could put all his strength into the first stroke, which was given before the notes of the bugle had fairly died away.
The thirteen contestants got off well together, and for a while it was any body’s race; but by the time a quarter of a mile had been passed over, Arthur Hastings and Roy Sheldon, who “made the pace”, began to draw to the front, while others fell behind, and when they rounded the stake-boat the line was very much broken. Tom Bigden did not try to win. According to the agreement this was not his race. He simply kept close beside his cousin—he had harder work to do it than he expected to have, for Loren sent his canoe through the water at an astonishing rate of speed—holding himself in readiness to frustrate any attempt at trickery on Frank Noble’s part, or to foul Frank if he showed speed enough to beat Loren fairly.
How the struggle would have ended, had each boy been as determined to win or lose on his merits as the majority of them were, it is hard to tell. Arthur and Roy paddled much faster now than they did on the day they had those friendly trials with Tom and his cousin, and so did Loren. Frank Noble, who was by no means an antagonist to be despised, kept close company with them, while Joe Wayring seemed content to linger behind and save his wind so that he could force the pace on the way home; consequently he was an eye-witness to a piece of deliberate rascality on the part of Tom Bigden, which was so neatly executed that it might have passed for an accident, if Joe, when questioned by the judge, had not told the truth concerning it. It came about in this way:
Arthur and Roy rounded the stake-boat together, keeping far enough away from each other to avoid all danger of a collision. Frank Noble followed in their wake, and close behind him came Loren Farnsworth, who having got his “second wind”, was plying his paddle with so much strength and skill that he was rapidly closing up the gap between himself and his leaders. Noble saw defeat staring him in the face, and believing that he could gain a few feet on Hastings and his companion, and throw Loren out of the race at the same time, he resorted to an expedient which drew a warning shout from Joe Wayring, who was contentedly following in Tom’s rear.
“Look out there, Frank!” cried Joe. “You’ll be foul of somebody in a minute more.”
“I told Tom that Loren Farnsworth should never come out at the top of the heap in this race, and I meant every word of it,” said Frank, to himself; and paying no attention to Joe’s warning, he shot his canoe across Loren’s bow, passing so close to him that the latter was obliged to stop paddling and back water in order to escape the collision which for a second or two seemed inevitable.
This was Tom Bigden’s opportunity and he was prompt to improve it. With a movement so quick and dextrous that it looked like an accident to the people on shore who witnessed it, Tom unjointed his paddle, dropped one blade of it overboard, and laying out all his strength on the other, he swung the bow of his canoe around and sent it crashing into the side of Noble’s boat, overturning it in an instant and throwing its occupant out into the water. Then, quick as a flash, Tom backed his canoe out of Loren’s way and sent it directly in the path of the other boys, who were thus given their choice between two courses of action: One was to make a wide detour in order to clear the three boats that lay in their way, and the other was to give up the race, which was now virtually left to Hastings, Sheldon and Loren Farnsworth. The most of them preferred to draw out of a contest in which they had no show of winning, and with many exclamations of anger and disgust turned about and paddled back to the starting point; while the others crowded up around the stake-boat to hear what the judge and referee would have to say about it.
“I claim foul on that!” shouted Tom; and the words and the speaker’s easy assurance so astonished Joe Wayring, that he sat in his canoe with his paddle suspended in the air as if he did not know what to do with it.
“I claim foul!” sputtered Noble, as soon as his head appeared above the surface of the water. “Bigden capsized me on purpose.”
“I say I didn’t!” cried Tom, looking very surprised and innocent indeed. “What business had you to try to cross my bows, when any body with half an eye could see that you had no chance to do it? You declared that if you didn’t win this race no one else should, and that’s why you got in my way.”