Inch by inch his stroke shortened, and first Frank's head, then his neck, then his shoulders slipped past him.
Gritting his teeth with fierce determination, and breathing hard, he strained every nerve to recover his lost ground; but all in vain. Frank gained steadily until his heels were in a line with Jack's head.
Already they were raising the shouts of victory, when Frank, turning to see what lead he had, caught sight of Jack's pale face, in which disappointment and despair were already showing themselves, and it brought up in his mind that same face a week before, when, pallid but resolute, just as it was now, it cut the water close beside him, while the boy to whom it belonged struggled so bravely with the death that threatened.
A mist came in his eyes and a lump rose in his throat as he thought of this.
"He saved my life," he murmured to himself.
"Hallo! what's up with Frank?" said Mr. Cunard. "He has almost stopped. He must be done out. Just shove out that boat there toward him, will you?"
"Go on and win, old chap," said Frank to Jack, when the latter came up to him. "I'm used up. I'll just paddle in slowly. Oh, I'm all right," he added, as Jack showed signs of stopping to help him, "Tired out, that's all."
Cheer after cheer rang out as Jack, nearly exhausted himself, but undaunted in spirit, swept by Frank, now paddling quite leisurely, and finished the course amidst a general chorus of congratulation.
He felt as proud as Punch, and when Frank came ashore, threw his arms around him affectionately, saying,—
"You're a dear, good fellow to let me beat you."