“Schoolhouse inside!” exclaimed Gilks, suddenly, as the sun momentarily caught the blue oars of the inside boat.
This was all that could be ascertained for the moment. From where they sat the blue and the red flags seemed to be coming towards them exactly abreast.
The crowd advanced with a roar, above which it was impossible to hear the name of the leading crew. But presently, as the two boats approached the corner, a slight turn inwards enabled them to answer the question for themselves.
“We lead!” exclaimed Silk.
Silk was a Welcher and Gilks a schoolhouse boy, but “we” meant Parrett’s.
Yes, the red flag was ahead, though only a little.
“How long before they’re at the point?”
“Half a minute. I say, how splendidly the schoolhouse are steering, though!”
Silk laughed. “More than Parrett’s are! Young Parson’s taking them round rather sharp, isn’t he?”
“No; he always turns in like that; it’s better than the long sweep. Now look out!”