boat lost ground instantly, and I could see,
out of the corner of my eye, the Old Boys' boat shoot forward with a
quickened stroke, and hear the triumphant shouts of their partisans.

A second or two sufficed to get past the obstructing boat, our oars on
the stroke side just scraping it as we did so; but as we headed again
into our proper course, we saw our opponents two clear boats' lengths in
front, their men pulling with all the energy of triumph and confidence.

It was a sight to make one despair. How were we ever to make up that
tremendous gap?

"How much?" Blades inquires, as he swings forward towards me.

"Two!" I reply.

He sets his face determinedly, and quickens his stroke. The men behind
him do not at first get into the altered swing, and for a moment or two
the rowing is scrambling, and our boat rolls unsteadily, a spectacle
hailed with increased joy by the partisans of the Old Boys' boat.

"Steady now!" cries Blades, over his shoulder, and next moment the boat
rights itself; the four oars dip and feather simultaneously. I, sitting
in the stern, can feel the swing as of one man, and the boat dashes
forward like a machine. Our fellows on the banks mark the change and
cheer tremendously.

"Well spurted, Parkhurst!" "Put it on now!" "You're gaining!" "Rowed
indeed!" Such were the cries which, as I heard them, set my blood
tingling with excitement.

It was a long time before any perceptible gain was noticeable from where
I sat. The Old Boys had taken advantage of their lead to come across
into our water, and all I could see of them was the blades of their oars
on in front, which rose and fell swiftly and with a regular beat.

Still the shout from the bank was, "You're gaining!" and presently I saw
their boat edging off again into their own water, by which I concluded
we had pulled up sufficiently to make this necessary to avoid a foul.

Our men pulled splendidly. Cool, determined, and plucky, each rowed his
best, his eyes fixed on the back of the man before him, keeping perfect
time, and pulling each stroke through with terrible energy. I could see
by their pale looks that they shared the common excitement, but there
was no sign of flurry or distress, nothing but a quiet determination,
which augured better for the result of their efforts than all the shouts
of the onlookers.

Where are we now? Those willows on my left are, I know, just half a
mile from the winning-post. Shall we, in th