Suddenly something came in the line of Frank's vision, to one side. It was the end of the Waterside shell. He had pulled up on his rival.
"Row, boys! Row!" he pleaded, and how Andy and the others did row!
Farther and farther along the Waterside shell crept that of Riverview. The crowds were yelling and shouting now in a very frenzy. It was a close race, much closer than they had expected.
"Row! Row!" panted Frank. He increased the stroke and his crew was with him. The boats were on even terms now. Frank could see that his rivals were almost at the limit of their strength and endurance. They had unwisely made their spurt too soon after rounding the stake boat.
"We've got to gain more! We've got to gain more!" Frank thought desperately.
Inch by inch his shell crept up on that of Waterside. Could he and his mates stand the strain a minute longer? It did not seem possible, yet they must—or lose.
Suddenly there was a revolver shot. It was the warning gun to tell that they were a hundred feet from the finish line.
"Now! For all you're worth! For the honor of Riverview!" cried Frank with his last breath.
Desperately he and his chums dug their blades into the water. Their example was followed by the crew of Waterside. The Riverview shell shot ahead. There was a riot of cheers. Frank fancied he could hear a girl's voice. Waterside made a last desperate effort, but it was too late. They were rowed out.
Then, with one final heart-breaking spurt, Frank and his crew sent their boat under the finish line. They scarcely dared look across to see where their rivals were, but when they did they saw that as their stern passed the mark the sharp bow of the other shell was just reaching it.