As Brad had observed, Ross seemed somewhat tired from his earlier performances. His stroke looked ragged and jerky. Dan by contrast forged smoothly ahead, pressing him hard every inch of the way.
At the turn, the two rivals were racing almost even. Determined to gain the lead, Ross lunged for the wall, his finger tips missing it by a scant margin. So rapidly did he turn, that few noticed.
Dan, tucking into a tight ball, also made a fast turn, but touched the wall. His shove-off however, was weak. When his head came out of water for a gulp of air, he was disconcerted to see that Ross was a full body length ahead.
“Come on, Dan!” his teammates yelled encouragingly. “You can do it!”
Dan dug in, but his breath was coming hard. Despite his best efforts he could not recapture the lead. In a moment, it seemed, the race was over. Ross had touched the finish wall a scant arm’s length ahead, and was congratulated as the winner.
For the members of Den 2 it was slight consolation that Mack had won third place, nosing out a Den 1 swimmer. The scoreboard proclaimed Den 1 the victor by a total of 25 to 20.
“Congratulations, Ross,” Dan said, offering his hand. “You swam a fine race!”
“Thanks,” the other boy grinned. “You weren’t so bad yourself. Pressed me plenty at first.”
Other members of Den 1 had gathered in a little group. After talking rather excitedly, they called Ross over. The other Cubs could not hear what was said, but they gathered that Ross himself was the topic of conversation. Apparently, he disagreed with his teammates about some matter, for his voice rose in sharp protest.
Then the Cubs heard him say sullenly: “Okay, if you want to be saps, go ahead! It makes me sick, after the way I worked to win for the team!”