Читать книгу Frank Merriwell, Jr., in Arizona; or, Clearing a Rival's Record онлайн

79 страница из 92

A bit of white fluttered on the left-hand bank. Bleeker and Hotchkiss had already made the turn and were coming down.

“We’ll be at the finish to welcome you fellows!” jubilated Hotch.

“Maybe you’ll do better in the singles,” shouted Bleeker. “It’s hardly fair, anyway. You haven’t gripped a paddle for a long time, while we’ve been at it every day for a week.”

“Don’t fret about that, Bleek,” grinned Clancy.

He could grin, but nevertheless he was worried. He and Merry had a lot of strength to draw on, but could they be sure that Bleeker and Hotchkiss had not a lot of power in reserve? The next few minutes would tell the tale.

The canoe came around, and headed away on the final stretch. Bleeker and Hotchkiss, the silver spray sparkling under the strong dip of their paddles, were all of five canoe lengths in the lead.

“Now, Clancy!” cried Merriwell. “We must get the inside track around the Point! Let yourself out, old man!”

Then and there the Farnham Hall lads began doing their prettiest. They bent to their work in a way that was beautiful to see, and the strength they had been nursing for just that moment expended itself in a wonderful burst of speed.