cry. “You can win if you try!”

“Pull, Pepper, pull!”

“Make every stroke tell, Jack!”

On and on swept the two boats, and for the first half of the course kept side by side.

“It’s going to be a tie race!”

“Pull, Paxton! Pull, Leeds!”

“See, Paxton’s boat is going ahead!”

It was true—slowly but surely the craft went forward, until it was a full length in advance. Jack, Pepper, and the others were doing their best but the other boat continued to keep in the lead.

“I see a rope trailing behind!” cried Pepper suddenly.

“There it goes,” added Andy. “It was caught on the bottom.”

“All together, and give her tar!” shouted Jack, shutting his teeth hard. “Pull, boys, pull!” And they did pull as never before.

But quarter of a mile of the race remained, and now Jack’s boat was crawling up to the rival craft.

“See, Paxton’s boat is but half a length ahead!”

“They are tie again!”

“Pull, everybody, and may the best crew win!” came from a gentleman in one of the sailboats.

“Oh, pa, I hope that last boat wins,” cried a girl in the sailing craft, a fine small yacht.

“So do I, Laura,” came from a second girl.

“Why, Flossie?” questioned her father, with a smile.

“Oh, I don’t know. They look nicer than the boys in the first boat.”

“Really? You have sharp eyes, I must say.” And then Mr. Ford, for such was the gentleman’s name, turned to the race once more.

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