“Let ’em have it now, Grant!” shouted John from the shore. Fred joined him in his exhortations, while Hugh and Herbert Halsey were just as noisy in their zeal to cheer their team on, and for the size of the audience the amount of sound produced was marvelous. Mr. Maxwell was the only one who was silent.
Closer came the two canoes. Now they were within range and Thomas lunged forward savagely at Grant. He ducked the blow and aiming one in return caught his opponent full in the stomach. Thomas uttered a loud grunt and fell backwards. As luck would have it however, he fell in the canoe. The light craft rocked dangerously and narrowly missed upsetting. As it was, some water was shipped and had it not been for the skill of the two occupants it surely would have overturned.
“Quick, Grant!” urged George. “Hit him again before he can get up.”
“Bring me closer to them.”
George thrust his paddle into the water and the canoe shot forward. Franklin, however, with ready presence of mind had swung his canoe around the minute it righted itself and Grant’s lunge at Thomas missed. Before George could bring his boat within range again, their opponents had recovered their balance and were prepared for the second attack.
Once more the canoes approached each other. This time Thomas followed Grant’s example and crouched on one knee. He had evidently learned a lesson and had determined to be more wary.
“Get him, Grant! Get him!” shouted John.
“Careful, George; not too fast,” warned Grant.
He held his pole back waiting an opportunity to strike. This time he was determined that any blow he delivered would end the match; he had been out-lucked before and did not want it to happen again.
Thomas made a feint at him. Grant was anxious and struck back so eagerly that he almost fell out of the canoe.