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CHAPTER XX
THE CANOE RACE
Dave Shepard, at the wheel of the _Happy Day_, ran directly behind the judges' boat and stopped.
"Who won?" cried the boys, in chorus. "Where does Number Sixteen stand?"
"How can we tell you until all the boats are in?" returned one of the gentlemen, smiling.
"Of course we know," declared Dr. Shelton. "And you are quite right to cheer them, boys. The _Coquette_ is 'way ahead of everything else--those two girls are corkers!"
Instantly the Busters and the Go-Aheads began to cheer anew. The older members of their party aboard the _Sissy Radcliffe_ took up the chorus. Wyn Mallory and Polly Jarley had beaten out the other catboats in the dingy old craft, and had won the twenty-five-dollar prize.
"It's all for you, dear," cried Wyn, when Polly kissed and thanked her.
"Of course I don't need the money, while you and your father do. You'll take it from me--for friends.h.i.+p's sake, dear?"
"Yes, Wyn. From _you_," returned the boatman's daughter, with trembling lips.
"And now you are coming to try for the canoe prize, too? That will be a five-dollar gold piece. But you will have to fight all us Go-Ahead girls for it. I shall beat you myself, if I can," laughed Wynifred.
Dave had rushed the motor boat over to the landing and he got Wyn's and Polly's canoes into the water. The whistle had blown for the girls'
canoe race the minute before, and the other girls were out on the lake.
Altogether there were forty-three canoes. Some were birchbarks like Polly's; but the large majority were cedar boats.
"Birchbarks line up at Dr. Shelton's landing!" bellowed the starter's voice through his megaphone. "Get me? Shelton's landing!"
Polly and the few other girls who had the Indian canoes waved their hands and got into position. They kept a pretty straight line.
"Now at the starting line here for you cedars!" cried the man, and Wyn, with her five mates, and the rest of the girl canoeists from all about the lake, tried to obey the command.
But there were so many of them that it was not altogether easy to get into line. Nearly forty canoes were "some bunch," to quote the slangy Frank, who was, by the way, just as eager as any of the other contestants.
Although Frank believed that Wyn, and perhaps Bess, as well as Polly and Grace, had a better chance than _she_ of winning the race; there was, of course, a chance of the very best canoeist getting a spill and so being put out of the race.
It is not always the best paddler who wins; there is too much uncertainty in handling the "tippy" craft--especially in moments of excitement, and among many other similar craft.
So there was hope for any and all. The eager faces of the girls in the canoes showed it. They scuffled somewhat to get place on the line; but the entries had all been numbered, so it was merely a case of getting in right and leaving enough s.p.a.ce on either side of one's bobbing canoe.
One of the starters was pulled up and down the line in a skiff to criticise. Not every girl was as fair-minded to her opponents as the girls from Green Knoll Camp, and there was some little bickering before the starter shouted for the whole crowd--both cedars and birches--to get ready.
"At the shot, remember," he cried through the megaphone. "Once around the stake-boat, to the right, and return. The birchbarks finish at this line, like the cedars. Now!"
A moment later the pistol shot rang out. There was a splash of paddles--even a clash of them, for some of the girls were too near each other and too eager.
The spectators cheered--the boys from Gannet Island doing especially well in that line. They were determined to root indiscriminately for the girls of Green Knoll Camp.
But within a very few minutes Dave Shepard shouted to his friends:
"Look what's coming up, fellows! See Polly!"
"Polly Jolly!" yelled the excitable Ferd. "Is that her in the first birchbark?"
"Of course it is," responded Tubby Blaisdell. "Well! did you ever see a girl like that before? Look at those arms. She's got better biceps than _you_ have, Dave, m' boy!"
For the girls were in their bathing dresses and Polly's bare arms were displayed to the best advantage as she flashed past the motor boat. Her face was set--her eyes bright. And she weaved back and forth as she drove the paddle with the steadiness of a machine.
"Hooray for Polly Jolly!" yelled Ferd Roberts, again.
The Busters took up the chorus. They could not restrain their enthusiasm, for the pace at which Polly was overhauling the cedar boats was really marvelous.
Of course, it was a foregone conclusion that some of the contestants would drop out. These canoes Polly pa.s.sed as though they were standing still.
In the lead were Wyn, Bess, Grace, Frank, and half a dozen other girls from about the lake. There were already two spills, and several slight collisions followed. The handicap on the birch canoes was really greater than was expected, for being in the rear, they had to dodge all the overset boats and the other paddlers who did not know enough to keep out of the course.
But Polly Jarley had taken the outside and she shot by all the trouble easily. She was soon clinging to the skirts of the head canoes and it looked, before the turn, as though she would soon be in the lead herself.
Up ahead Wyn and Bess and Grace were struggling almost neck and neck with two strange girls. The captain of the Go-Aheads wanted to win--she wanted to do so very much. She was a good sport, and therefore a good loser; but that does not necessarily mean that one _likes_ to lose.
Bessie Lavine was paddling splendidly for her--it was evidently one of her good days. Frank Cameron had fallen behind--indeed, she had clashed with another girl and both were out of the race.
Grace Hedges was almost as big and strong as Polly Jarley; but she lacked the training of the boatman's daughter. Polly was used to hard work every day of her life. That is different from gymwork and a little paddling, or swimming, or other athletic fun a few times a week.
But Grace was doing finely and she even might have won had she not tried unwisely to pa.s.s one of her rivals. Her paddle clashed with that of the other girl. Both canoeists were straining hard--and their tempers were a bit strained, too.
"I wish you'd look where you're going, Miss!" snapped the other girl, and before Grace could return the compliment--had she so wished--the two canoes crashed together and both girls were spilled into the lake.
There was no danger in these spills. Two motor boats followed behind and picked up the swamped contestants.
But before Grace was picked up she saw Polly Jarley flash by in the birchbark. There were but three cedar boats ahead of the boatman's daughter, and all were coming down the return course, the paddlers straining to do their very best.
Wyn had a splendid, even stroke; Bess was getting heated, and bit her lip as she paddled. It always hurt Bess when she lost. Up from the rear Polly urged her birchbark with long, steady heaves that seemed to prove her magnificent muscles tireless.
The spectators began to shout for the boatman's daughter. They saw that she was making a magnificent attempt to win the race.
But when Wyn heard them shouting for another number rather than her own--she did not notice which!--she put forth every ounce of spare strength she possessed.
Bess was left behind by the captain of the Go-Ahead Club. Her canoe quivering, her paddle actually bending under her work, Wyn dashed on.
Bess and the other girl were out of the race--hopelessly. It lay between Wyn and the birchbark canoe.
Polly did not withhold her paddle when she saw her friend dart ahead; it was a perfectly fair race. But the boatman's girl had done so well at first, considering her handicap and all, that there was little wonder if she could not keep up the gruelling work. She had no reserve force, as Wyn had.
The latter dashed over the mark with undiminished speed. Polly only halted long enough to congratulate her.
"It's dear of you to be glad, Polly, when I know you wanted the prize,"
cried Wyn. "But we couldn't both have it."
"You have helped me enough to-day, Wynifred," replied Polly, softly.