As the two boats drew near the finish the excitement on board each apparently was shared by the spectators. The calls and screams and cries redoubled, while the blasts of the whistles were added to the deafening noise. Swiftly and steadily and yet side by side the boats swept forward. To the anxious boys it did not appear that there was any distance between them. Do what they might the Go Ahead boys were unable to increase the speed of their racing motor-boat, which now seemed to be almost below the surface so low was it lying in the water.
The Caledonia meanwhile had moved closer to the line and the excitement on her deck was keener than that on any other boat in the assembly. If Fred's attention had not been so strongly centered upon his task he might have seen his grandfather running back and forth near the rail, his hat in one hand and his cane held midway in the other, shouting in his loudest tones to his grandson to "put on more power and win that race."
Miss Susie already had lost much of her ability to shout. Her voice rose scarcely above a whisper.
Of all these things, however, the Go Ahead boys were ignorant when the two boats swept across the line.
Even those who were on board were not able to say positively which had won the cup.
"That is the worst finish I have ever seen in a race," said Fred to his friends when the Black Growler in a wide semi-circle turned from the course.
"I think it will be for the judges to say anyway," said George as he wrung the water out of his dripping sweater.
"I fancy they will be the ones who will pick the winner," laughed Grant. "I hope they'll not call it a draw and that we shall have to try it all over again."
"I shan't mind very much if they do," said John.
"There's a call from the judges!" interrupted Fred, who had seldom looked away from the judges' boat, which now they were again approaching.