The following day the race came off for single sculls, and it was a foregone conclusion that Mark Merrill would win.
When the word was given to go, Mark seemed not to hear it, but the others started off like arrows.
Bemis Perry, Nazro, Dillingham, Clemmons, Ferd Randall, and half a dozen more were in the race, and they all started in a bunch, all except Mark.
At last he started, crossing the line just in the nick of time to prevent being ruled out, and then seeming as though willing to give up as the others had such a long lead.
“I’ll bet my hat he’s jockeying,” cried Bascomb, and as he spoke Mark’s oars went down with a mighty sweep, and his boat clove the waters like a knife.
Randall was soon picked up, then came Neil Carroll, Harbor Driggs, Frank Latrobe, and the rear contingent were dropped astern.
A second squadron was just ahead, and in it were Nazro, Dillingham, Swamsey, and Denton.
They were at the turning-stake and Mark Merrill swept out beyond them, giving them ample room.
But when they settled for the pull home it was seen that he had them astern, and he was rowing well, with long, tremendous strokes that did not seem to distress him. Ahead of him were three scullers, McNulty, the champion of the year before, with Bemis Perry and Scott Clemmons leading him by a length.
Clemmons was gradually drawing ahead of Perry, but so slowly as to be almost imperceptible, and all had their eyes upon the tremendous strokes of the racer coming on astern.