partisans lined the wagon. "Ossokosees!" "Now, then, Ossokosees! Give 'em your best!" "Good for you! That's right, don't let 'em make it!" "Touchtone! O, Touchtone!" "Go it, Dater, that's the way to give it to 'em!" "One good spurt now, Victors, and you can have it your own way!" "Bravo, Ossokosee!" "Oss-o-ko-see!" And then mingled with all this voicing of favorites, began the patter, at first gentle, but strengthening, of thousands of hands clapping together in the open air, and whips and sticks pounded on wagon-bottoms, and parasols clattered with them. O, it was a great finish; and—sweep—sweep—as the now desperate Victors flew down it was clear that Philip and his friends were not yet nearly overtaken, and that with a hope that gave each arm the power of steel the Ossokosees were bound to win that race if they could hold two minutes longer their advantage.
Gerald let fall his hand. Mr. Marcy, Mr. Lorraine, Mr. Voss, and the others were leaning forward in strong hope; and, as to the friends of the Victors, in courage till the last. The stroke of the Ossokosees was weakening a
