is the winner!
He is working like a veteran, and he is setting a stroke that is bound
to tell before the race is over."

This was true enough. The strong, long stroke of the freshmen kept their
boat going steadily at high speed once it was in motion, and they
steadily overhauled the juniors, who had fallen away from the sophs. At
the stake the freshman crew passed the juniors, and the freshmen
witnesses had fits.

But that was not the end of the excitement. The speed of the freshman
boat was something wonderful, and it was overhauling the sophs, despite
the fact that they were pulling for dear life to hold the lead.

And now the shouting for 'Umpty-eight was heard on every side. The sophs
were encouraging their men to hold the advantage to the finish, but
still the freshmen were gaining.

The nose of the freshman boat crept alongside the sophs, whose faces
wore a do-or-die look. The suspense was awful, the excitement was
intense:

Then Rattleton was heard talking:

"Well, this is the greatest snap we ever struck! I wonder how the sophs
like the Oxford stroke? Oh, my! what guys we are making of them! It
don't make a dit of bifference how hard they pull, they're not in the
race at all. Poor sophs! Why don't they get out and walk? They could get
along faster."

That seemed to break the sophs up, and then a great shout went up as the
freshman boat forged into the lead. They soon led the sophs by a length,
and crossed the line thirty feet in advance.

Then Rattleton keeled over, completely done up, but supremely happy.

How the freshmen spectators did cheer!

"'Umpty-eight! 'Umpty-eight! Whoop 'er up! 'Rah! 'rah!' rah!"

It was another great victory for the freshmen--and Frank Merriwell, and
that night a great bonfire blazed on the campus and the students made
merry. They blew horns, sang, cheered and had a high old time.

The freshmen made the most noise, and they were very proud and
aggressive. Never had Yale College freshmen seemed happier.

"Where is Merriwell?" was the question that went around.

A committee was sent to search for him, and they returned with him on
their shoulders. He tried to get down, but he could not.

Uncle Blossom climbed on a box and shouted:

"Three cheers for 'Umpty-eight, the winners!"

The cheers were given.

Easy Street leaped on another box and yelled:

"Three cheers for Frank Merriwell, the winning oar!"

It seemed that the freshmen were trying to split their throa