CHAPTER III.THE RACES.
The following day dawned clear and bright. The races were to come off at ten, half-past ten and eleven o’clock, and long before this time the river in front of the town was alive with skaters.
Harry had some work to do at home, and did not appear until a little before ten. He found his friends anxiously awaiting him.
“Thought you had given it up,” said Boxy. “I know you are fairly aching to let Pete Sully win that five-miler.”
“He won’t win it unless Jack and I drop out,” returned Harry.
“That’s so,” put in Jack Bascoe. “We’ll do our best to leave ’em all behind, eh, Harry?”
The Zero Club gathered at one side of the river, while Pete Sully and his crowd gathered at the other. Milne, also a good skater, glided here and there by himself. He was a good deal of a dude, and on this account had but few friends among the young people of Rudskill.
Sully was bragging about what he was going to do, and talked so loudly that he disgusted many who would otherwise have taken an interest in his endeavors. He was willing to bet all in his pockets—which was notmuch—that he would easily outdistance those who were pitted against him.
The first race, one of half-a-mile dash, was presently called, and six boys ranged up in line at the starting point. Boxy was in the crowd, he preferring this sort of contest to one where staying powers were required.
The boys started off like a flash at the signal, a loud shouting from the crowd following them.
The short race was over almost before the spectators had ceased to yell. A fellow named Tory had won, with Boxy a close second.
“Good for you, Boxy!” cried Jack. “If I do as well I shall be satisfied.”
“It’s a silver medal for my chest,” replied Boxy, proudly. “And that’s better than a leather one.”
After a short intermission, the second race, two miles, straightaway, was called. Andy was in this, and also Bill Dixon and four others.
“Look out for Dixon,” whispered Jack to his brother. “He may try to trick you as he did the crowd on the toboggan.”
“I’ll be on my guard,” responded Andy.
When the start was made, Andy did not catch his stroke as quickly as did the others, and as a consequence they gained several yards on him.
“Go in, Andy!” cried Harry. “You can do it if you try!”
“He can’t get near Dixon!” sneered Pete Sully. “Look, he’s away behind already!”
“You must do it, Andy!” cried Harry, paying no attention to the bully’s words. “Strike out faster!”
Encouraged by Harry’s words, and also by the calling of his brother and Boxy, Andy did really make an extra effort, and before half a mile was covered passed the last two fellows in the race, thus becoming fourth.
Bill Dixon was in the lead, and for a while it looked as if he would stay there. He kept crawling away from all of the others, and at length had left them pretty much behind.
But now Andy showed of what metal he was made. With a spurt he swept by the two ahead of him, and dashed on close at Bill Dixon’s heels.
“What did I tell you!” cried Harry. “Go in, Andy, and win!”
Dixon heard the cry, and looked over his shoulder. There was yet almost a half mile to skate, and he was nearly winded. He felt that Andy would pass him, try his best to keep up the pace.
He slowed up, and put out one foot, intending thereby to trip Andy up. But the young contestant saw it just in time, and, with a nimble leap, he cleared the obstruction, and went sailing on, winner by ten yards, while Dixon came in third, the boy behind Andy managing to come up before Dixon could regain his lost headway.
Andy would have reported Dixon for his evil intention; but, as he had won the race, he said nothing; still, the look he gave the bully’s toady made that individual sneak out of sight in short order.
And now it was time for the five-mile race, the greatestof the day. It must be confessed that both Harry’s heart and Jack’s beat rapidly as they took their places in line with Sully and Milne.
The race was to be two and a half miles up the river, and the same distance back. A skater with a big white flag marked the turning point.
“Are you all ready boys?” questioned old Mr. Grimes, who conducted the races personally. “Every skate in good order and properly fastened on?”
“Yes, sir,” came first from one and then another.
“Then, go! And good luck go with you!”
They were off, side by side, not a single one a foot ahead or behind. It was undoubtedly the best start of the day.
“Now show ’em what you can do, Sully!”
“Shake ’em up, Milne!”
“Strike out faster, Harry!”
“There goes Jack Bascoe ahead!”
The last cry proved true. Jack had made a splurge, and was now nearly a yard ahead of the other three, who, at the end of the first mile, were still closely bunched.
Then Milne put on steam and went ahead for fully a mile, with Jack behind him, and Harry and Sully side by side in the rear. But the dude of the town could not keep up the pressure, and suddenly, long before the turning point was reached, he collapsed and dropped behind and out of the race entirely.
“Only three now!”
“And Jack Bascoe still in the lead!”
“Sully is crawling up to him!”
It was true. Pete Sully’s long legs were working with wonderful rapidity, and he was slowly forging ahead of Harry, despite the other’s apparent best efforts to keep up.
“Jack’s going to win that race!” cried Andy, with pardonable pride.
“It certainly looks so,” returned Boxy. “Well, he deserves it, although I kind of hoped Harry would get that prize and be able to turn it into money.”
“Jack said he would lend Harry the money if he won the medal,” said Andy. “He said it just before they started.”
“Good for Jack,” returned Boxy. “In that case I certainly don’t begrudge him the token.”
On and on went the skaters, until the turning point was reached, and Jack shot around it in as small a curve as he could make without slipping, and directly on his heels followed Sully.
But the bully and Jack were both becoming winded, and they could not keep up the pace. Harry, on the contrary, had got his second wind, and now he put on a spurt that brought him up yard by yard to the others.
“Harry Webb is gaining on them!”
“Sully is losing ground on Bascoe!”
“Harry is up to Sully!”
“What’s the matter with Jack? Is he out of wind?”
“He must be. See! see! Harry is right on Jack’s heels!”
“Harry has passed them all!” yelled Boxy, in wild delight. “Didn’t I tell you he would do it?”
“They’ve got half a mile to go yet!”
“Never mind, he’s getting farther ahead each minute!”
Boxy was right. Harry was now putting forth every effort. He had just forged ahead of Jack, and it certainly looked as if he would come in a winner.
But Jack was picking up. He was determined to beat Sully, even if he could not gain on his friend.
A couple of rods were passed, and Harry was almost sure of winning, when suddenly a wild, girlish cry rang out across the river.
Harry looked to his left and saw a sight that thrilled him with horror.
Half-way between himself and the shore was a long, narrow spot where the ice was very thin. A girl, scarcely ten years of age, had ventured on this ice, and broken through, and was now struggling madly to save herself from drowning.
Evidently all the other people on the river were so interested in the race that they had not seen the accident nor heard her cries for aid.
“My gracious!” burst from Harry’s lips, and then, forgetting all about the race, and the prize he wished so much to win, he swept from the straight course in a semi-circle toward the hapless victim.
Thinking something had gone wrong, perhaps, with Harry’s skates, Jack kept on, determined to win the medal from Sully, if he possibly could. Sully saw what the real trouble was, but, thoroughly selfish, kept on, hoping to win by accident if not otherwise.
“Help me!” screamed the girl, as she saw Harry approaching. “Help me, Harry Webb!”
“It’s Boxy’s sister, as sure as I live!” cried the boy, in horror. “Keep up, Minnie, and I’ll save you! Catch hold of the ice, and don’t let the current carry you under!”