“Anybody that thinks he can’t keep this pace up for a mile more better speak.”
No one spoke.
“You’re all smooth enough,” the coxswain added reassuringly. “They’re lapping us still—but we’ll leave ’em pretty soon now.”
In a few moments the St. Timothy’s cheer reached them, faint but clear.
“There!” cried Gardner. “They see we’re ahead. Even way down there they know! Whoop it up, fellows; whoop it up—only three quarters of a mile to go!”
Then came even more distinctly the St. John’s cheer; and then again both St. John’s and St. Timothy’s together, and so much louder that Edward felt sure both crowds must be rushing up along the banks. He was sure of it a moment later; he heard yelling and shouting abreast of him on either side; they had reached the advanced guard of the spectators, and from now on they would be accompanied by the stimulus of shouts and cheers all the way.
“Half a mile more only!” cried Gardner
