chanted in unison the various school yells, until one would think that Bedlam had broken loose.
Half way up to the island Columbia High seemed to be holding her own, with Clifford pressing close at her side, and Bellport lingering just in the rear, ready to push ahead at the least sign of a break.
Frank was holding his men in reserve to some extent. He knew the stamina of that Clifford team. They had the reputation of being tremendous finishers. It was the furious rush of that last half mile that he dreaded; and all because of Jonsey, the weak spoke in the wheel.
The island loomed up ahead. Scores of Clifford people had taken up their stations on it, so as to witness the turn. They knew everybody could not be at the finish, and preferred half a loaf to no bread.
"Get out the way there with those boats! Do you want to have an accident?"
It was Coach Willoughby roaring through his megaphone, and his voice carried like a fog horn signal. A number of pleasure boats had clustered about the upper end of the island, and unless they made a hasty move it was possible that one of the contestants might collide with a rowboat or a launch.
Immediately there was a scurrying. Boats fled to the right and left.
"Pull in closer to the shore, you fellows! Quick now!"
