is straight
course for the forlorn hope of an attempt to elude the bump by a pull at
the rudder line.

"Durend, they'll have us, if you don't draw away a little."

Durend nodded. He had not been unmindful of the boat creeping up behind,
but he had a problem, and no easy one, to settle. Should he press his
crew to the utmost, or should he hold his hand for another time? It was
a terribly difficult thing to decide for the best, with Johnson's
creeping up and every fibre in him revolting against surrender and
calling out for a desperate spurt right up to the end.

Suddenly Durend quickened up. His men were waiting and longing for a
spurt and caught it up at once. But again the swing was marred by
Franklin's inability to support the terrific pace. After the first
stroke or two the boat began to roll heavily, the form and time became
ragged, and there was much splashing.

One glance at Dale's agonized face and Durend again allowed his stroke
to drop back into its former steady swing, and doggedly, with
sternly-set face, plugged away as before, refusing to look again at the
crew drawing inexorably up behind. Twice the boats overlapped, but both
times Dale managed, by skilful steering, to avoid a bump. The third time
no trick of steering could avoid the issue, and the nose of the Johnson
boat grated triumphantly along the side of Benson's.

At the touch, both crews ceased rowing. The race for them was ended for
that day at least, and they could watch and see how the other crews had
fared. But the other races were also over, for the third and last "Boom"
rang out within a few seconds of the termination of their own.

Defeat is always hard to bear, and the Benson crew were no exception to
the rule. It was obvious to every one of them that they had not been
allowed to have their full fling, and angry and discontented thoughts
surged into the brains of the disappointed men as they leaned over their
oars and tried not to hear the jubilant chatter of those insufferable
Johnsonites. Why had Stroke set so wretchedly slow a stroke that defeat
was certain? The members of the beaten crew were, for the most part,
fresher far than the winning crew. Why had not Stroke given them the
opportunity of rowing themselves right out instead of tamely
surrendering thus?

No answers to these discontented queries were forthcoming. Durend could
have spoken, but would not. Dale might have spoken; for though he knew
not the plans of his chief, hi