The veins stood out on their foreheads. Between their clenched teeth their breath came in gasps. Still they struggled on, still they gained slowly, almost imperceptibly and nearer and nearer they came to the finish.
“If the course was only a few yards longer,” groaned George as he watched the stirring finish from the canoe.
A moment later and the two racers were almost on even terms. It was nearly impossible to tell which one was in the lead now, so evenly were they matched. The tape was only a few feet away. With one final effort the four young racers urged their canoes forward; they broke the tape and shot on past. The race was over.
CHAPTER XIX—A CLOSE SHAVE
“Well!” exclaimed George. “I never saw anything to beat that!”
“Who won?” demanded Fred.
“Don’t ask me. I’m not the judge.”
The boys turned and looked at Mr. Maxwell who was seated in the other canoe with Franklin and Herbert. His face was turned towards the two canoes which had just flashed across the finish line. He wore a puzzled expression and was evidently at a loss what to say.