_Rhondda_ in the middle
berth, and the neat little _Slieve Donard_ inshore. At the start the
Rhonddas came fair away from the German boat, but even at the distance
we could see that the "Dutchmen" were well in hand. At midway the
_Rhondda_ was leading by a length, still going strong, but they had
shot their bolt, and the green boat was surely pulling up. The _Slieve
Donard_, after an unsteady course, had given up. Soon we could hear
old Schenke roaring oaths and orders, as his launch came flying on in
the wake of the speeding boats.

The Germans spurted.

We yelled encouragement to the Rhonddas. "Give 'em beans, old
sons! . . ."

"_Rhondda_! _Rhondda_! . . . Shake 'er up" Gallantly the white boat
strove to keep her place, but the greens were too strong. With a rush,
they took the lead and held it to the finish, though two lengths from
the line their stroke faltered, the swing was gone, and they were
dabbling feebly when the shot rang out.

"A grand race," said every one around. "A grand race"--but old Burke
had something to say when he steamed up to put our cox'n among us.
"Byes, byes," he said, "if there had been twinty yards more the
_Rhondda_ would have won. Now d'ye moind, Takia, ye divil . . . d'ye
moind! Keep th' byes in hand till I give ye th' wurrd! . . . An' whin
ye get th' wurrd, byes! . . . Oh, Saints! Shake her up when ye get
th' wurrd!"

The third heat was closely contested. All three boats, two Liverpool
barques and a Nova Scotiaman, came on steadily together. A clean race,
rowed from start to finish, and the _Tuebrook_ winning by a short
length.

The afternoon was well spent when we stripped for the final, and took
up our positions on the line. How big and muscular the Germans looked!
How well the green boat sat the water! With what inward quakings we
noted the clean fine lines of stem and stern! . . . Of the _Tuebrook_
we had no fear. We knew they could never stand the pace the Germans
would set. Could we?

Old Burke, though in a fever of excitement when we came to the line,
had little to say. "Keep the byes in hand, Takia--till ye get th'
wurrd," was all he muttered. We swung our oar-blades forward.

"Ready?" The starter challenged us.

Suddenly Takia yelped! We struck and lay back as the shot rang out! A
stroke gained! Takia had taken the flash; the others the report!

The Jap's clever start gave us confidence and a lead. Big Jones at
stroke worked us up to bet