had become intensely exciting, and again the two cliques on shore were
breathless and silent with interest. Neither party had any thing to
indicate the success of its favorite.

Even yet Richard had not put his crew to their utmost. But the decisive
moment had arrived, and his body began to sway backward and forward
with increasing rapidity, and a quarter of a mile more gave him half a
boat-length's advantage over his rival.

"Steady, fellows; keep cool," said he, in a loud whisper. "Don't miss a
stroke, and make every one tell all it will. Now you see her over the
stern--but pull steady."

The Emma was a length ahead of the Alice when Richard finished these
remarks. The boats were within an eighth of a mile of the end of the
course, and the murmuring applause of the Grant party on shore began to
reach the ears of the contestants.

"Pull! Pull!" shouted Nevers, filled with rage and vexation. "Pull with
all your might, fellows. We can beat him yet, if you only stick to it."

He increased the rapidity of his motions, but his crew were unable to
keep up with him. Their stroke was unsteady; some of them forgot to
feather their oars, and some scarcely dipped the blades in the water.

"Steady!" said Richard, with more energy. "Mind your stroke. Keep both
eyes on me. Here we are!" shouted he, jumping up from his seat in the
stern, and giving the order to cease rowing.

The Emma flew by the stake boat two and a half lengths ahead of the
Alice, and a stunning roar of cheers from the shore and the sail boat
saluted the victors.

"Grant forever! Three cheers for Grant!" shouted Bailey, as the crew of
the Emma rose and made the welkin ring with their huzzas.

CHAPTER XVIII.

RICHARD WINS ANOTHER RACE, AND TUNBROOK IS MUTINOUS.

It was a proud moment for Richard Grant when he rose from the stern
sheets of the Emma, and found the Alice was two or three lengths
behind, and when he heard the shouts of his friends rend the air. It
was victory--another triumph over the Regulators, who had threatened to
make Tunbrook too hot to hold him. They did not get ahead very fast,
and he felt that his conquest over them was complete.

The hour of prosperity, of triumph, is the most dangerous period in the
experience of a young man. He is on the top of the wave, and he sees
not the dark abyss that yawns on either side of him. Truly we need
adversity to keep us from forgetting God and duty; to keep us from
forgetting that truth