As they passed into the shadow of the bridge, the launch sent forth a single long shriek. The sound filled the Westcott bow oar with furious resentment. Was Pete going to let Newbury slip in ahead now, after holding them the whole distance? Why didn’t he spurt? Why didn’t he give his crew a chance to win its proper place? The spirit of battle that surged through Roger’s heart blotted out the consciousness of weariness and feebleness; he yearned for the opportunity to do something more than pull with all his might at the stroke set him.
But Pete did not respond to the ardent wish of the bow oar. The race was approaching its end. The launch gave its final signal—one hateful blast.
“Ten strokes more!” yelled Rust. “Make it good now. Hard! Hard!”
Then Talbot, either to test his crew or to show what he could do if he tried, suddenly “hit her up.” Bow oar met the challenge with a burst of furious energy. He was mad all through. He felt like tearing his outrigger from the side, like driving his stretcher into Eaton’s back. Those ten strokes were the hardest Roger had ever rowed. The boat leaped forward. The lead of three-quarters of a length which Newbury had, grew less with every push of the Westcott oars.
“Let her run!” called Rust, and the crew rested. Newbury had won, by a quarter of a length. Roger held himself upright, though breathing heavily. His limbs were in a quiver, his heart was sore against Pete’s cautious policy. They had lost a race that might have been won! Brookfield was splashing along five lengths away, trying hard to avoid the ignominy of being last.
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PRESIDENT JOHN hurried from the launch to the Newbury crew, who were stiffly disembarking at the side of the float.
“A splendid race!” he cried exultantly, as he grasped the hand of the victorious captain; “a splendid race! That’s the way to do the thing,—get the lead in the first half of the course and hold it. And you had plenty of strength in reserve, too, didn’t you?”
Downs glanced a little doubtfully at his men. “I think so.”
“You’ll do it easier next time,” asserted the distinguished man. “A defeat like this breaks the spirit of a crew. What you want now is a good rest. I’ll see if I can’t get you a holiday for to-morrow.”