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A CLOSE FINISH
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We're last. We've got more than hour yet. Better get on a sweater and a blanket, you might be chilly. You fellows do the same thing," he commanded, to his crew.

"I wish we were going in first—and get it over with," said Sid. "This waiting——"

"Say, cut it out!" cried Frank. "If you fellows want to have a case of nerves go off by yourselves somewhere. I want to watch the other races."

"I think our fellows have a good chance in the four," said Dan Woodhouse.

"We've got a good chance in everything—do you hear that, me boy?" cried Bricktop, in his rich brogue. "We're going to win everything! Just because you're in the eight you mustn't be selfish."

"I'm not, only——"

"Here comes our four!" interrupted Frank. "A cheer for 'em, boys!" and the echoes vibrated as the rallying cry went forth.

"Come on now, fellows," cried Bean, dancing about, the colors of Randall on his megaphone fluttering in the wind. "All yell—

"We can row you on the water,
We can race you on the land.
We can wallop you at football
And at baseball beat the band!