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The High School Boys' Canoe Club, a fiction by H. Irving Hancock |
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Chapter 23. Trentville, The Awesome |
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_ CHAPTER XXIII. TRENTVILLE, THE AWESOME As the "Scalp-hunter" swung around the upper buoy and headed down the course she had a lead of a clean two lengths over the Trentville High School canoe. There was a larger crowd on the lake to-day and more steam and gasoline craft were out. As Dick & Co. shot down the line, still leading, steam and pneumatic whistles broke forth into a noisy din. Over on the western shore, on the grounds of the larger hotel, only one little knot of Gridley people stood to watch and cheer. These were the Bentleys, Mrs. Meade and the same group of girls that had watched the other race. No excursion had come up from the home town to-day, for no one in Gridley had believed that their high school youngsters could defeat the seasoned Trentville High School canoe crew. Only two days before Trentville had won from Preston High School by nearly five lengths. What show was there for Dick & Co. or for Gridley High School? Hence the smallness of the Gridley crowd present. However, some hundreds of people who looked on were eager only to see the best crew win, as they had no ties binding them either to Gridley or to Trentville. But the unexpected had happened. In the first place, when the Trentville canoe and crew arrived at the lake Dick Prescott had insisted that Preston High School and Trentville High School race together first. Thus he had opportunity to watch the Trentville work. Moreover, by delaying his own race against Trentville, Dick had had more time to train and drill his crew into form, both as to paddling and endurance. He had profited well by these opportunities. To-day, from the outset, he had handled his crew so that a slight lead over Trentville had been maintained. This had been gradually increased, and now that the buoy had been turned with such a handsome lead, none on shore or in the other boats believed that Trentville High School had any further chance. Pascal, however, who captained the Trentville canoe, had another view of the matter. It was Ted Pascal's third summer in a canoe. He had drilled more than one crew, and knew all the ins and outs of the sport. "I guess Prescott thinks he has the whole thing, by this time," smiled Pascal to himself. "Poor chap. He's a nice young freshman, and I hate to fool him. But we'll soon begin our work. The Gridley crew must be well tired by now." Presently Ted Pascal passed the word quietly over the heads of his perspiring but confident crew. "Tighten up a little bit, now---a little bit at a time," was the message Pascal gave his followers. By the time that the home course had been half covered it was noted that the "Slip-over," as the Trentville craft was named, was creeping up fast on its rival. Dick, too, quickly became aware of this. "Trentville is showing a lot of new form, fellows, and coming right up on us," Dick called quietly. "This race isn't won! The fact, we're near to losing it. Form! form! muscle! Don't fumble again, Hazelton! One, two, three, four!" But still the Trentville High School craft continued to creep up on them. The Gridley High School girls on shore became so anxious that they forgot to wave their handkerchiefs and cheer. "More push! Power, as well as speed," Dick panted, for now the grueling speed was beginning to tell on even the leader of Dick & Co. The prow of the "Slip-over" now passed the stern of the "Scalp-hunter." Reade saw this, too, and uttered a groan. From the shore and the boats holding spectators came new volleys of cheers, for most of these spectators were wholly impartial, and wanted only to see an exciting race. "Let yourself out, Gridley!" boomed a voice over the water. Dick and Co. were doing their best---or what amounted to much the same thing---believed that they were, at any rate. Yet the Trentville canoe crept steadily up, then led by a quarter length, a half length. It looked as though the Trentville crew would soon be a length ahead of the Gridley boys. Everyone of Dick's chums was desperate. So was Dick himself, but he kept as cool as possible. "Bring our prow up!" he called steadily. "No matter what happens, bring our prow up flush with Trentville!" By some miracle the Gridley boys found strength enough left in their arms and backs to accomplish this feat. Then the "Scalp-hunter" dropped behind again, an inch at a time. "We caught 'em once!" called Dick in an even voice. "We must do it again. One, two, three, four! Hump! hump! Put in the power!" By inches the "Scalp-hunter" crawled up, but Dick & Co. felt completely exhausted. "You've been doing well, kid," called the even voice of Ted Pascal over the water, "but you can't do any more. We take this race!" "Do you?" dared Dick. "Yes; you're all in, and we have reserve steam left." "Have you?" snapped young Prescott. "Then now is the time to prove it." Taking a deep breath, Dick Prescott shouted: "Remember what Gridley demands! No defeats. Dash ahead, Gridleys! Now---go in and kill yourselves for the honor of your school!" Dick was far from meaning that literally, but his quick eye had measured the remaining distance of the course. He was captain enough to know just what each of his men could endure, and for how long they could stand up under it. "Life is of little use to the vanquished!" Dick shouted on. "Go in to win---kill yourselves!" At an earlier point on the course it would have been fearfully bad leadership. It would have resulted in disaster had any of Dick & Co. had any form of serious physical weakness. But Dick Prescott knew his boys! "Kill yourselves!" he shouted out again, as he saw the two canoes running neck and neck. "For the honor of Gridley High School!" Right noble was the response, though flesh and blood could not stand this new and savage grilling for long. "Wake up, Trentville!" shouted Ted Pascal, when he saw the "Scalp-hunter" gaining. "Wake up! Let out all of your steam! Push!" Dick Prescott said no more. His straining gaze was now fixed on the finish line. Not one of his chums even glanced at the imaginary line. All their thoughts, like all their glances, were on their paddles. "A final dash, now!" called Dick. "Slam up the pace for Gridley!" But Trentville was showing its boasted reserve steam. Close as they now were to the finish, Pascal had no thought of permitting defeat to come to his crew. No dinning of whistles was there now. Every spectator waited breathlessly for the outcome that would be reached in the next few seconds. _ |
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