VICTORY OF THE STROKE.
The race was on! Down the lake they came, the freshmen and sophomores
neck and neck. The great crowd shouted and cheered. Colors waved
everywhere.
It was a beautiful sight to see those rival crews, their broad backs
bending in perfect unison, their strong arms extended and drawn back
with the muscular heave that was regular as clockwork. The dripping
oar-blades flashed in the sunshine.
Who is the coxswain in the freshman boat? Everybody is anxious to know.
It’s not a little fellow. Why, it’s a man as large as Knight! Look
closer!
“Great mavericks!” muttered Berlin Carson. “Am I dreaming? Why, that
is——”
“I thought you said Knight had disappeared!” rumbled Browning. “Who gave
you that fairy-story?”
“That is Knight in the stern of the freshman boat, sah,” put in Hock
Mason.
Of course it was Knight! There could be no mistaking that terrible scar
down his left cheek, which was plainly visible through their glasses.
“Well, it’s hard work to get ahead of Frank Merriwell!” chuckled Berlin
Carson. “He must have found a way to trace Knight and rescue him. The
freshmen will win!”
“It looks that way,” admitted Carker; “but in times of greatest
prosperity have come upon us our greatest calamities.”
They felt like punching him, but of a sudden their attention was wholly
given to the race. Surely something was wrong! See! the freshman stroke
reels in his seat! It is Starbright! Something has fallen to the bottom
of the shell—something that sounds suspiciously like a stone.
Then the sophomores begin to forge ahead.
The consternation in the freshman boat has spread to the shore. The race
is ruined. Something had knocked the stroke-oar out, and that settles
it.
But look again! A strange thing is happening. The coxswain, with amazing
skill, grasps the senseless stroke and swings him aft, taking his place
and his oar.
As he seized the oar the new stroke cries:
“Pull!”
Never before on Lake Whitney had such a remarkable thing happened. The
freshmen quickly recover, and their oars rise and fall. With tremendous
energy they almost fling the boat out of the water.
The race is near the end. There can be no hope for the unfortunate
freshmen, who now have no coxswain, save a senseless man.
The great crowd of spectators thrill with wildest excitement. The new
stroke has given that crew such life as they had not exhibited before at
any stage of the race. They forge ahead, recovering the lost distance
with remarkable speed.
In a moment they will be neck and neck again. Is it possible that the
race will be a draw?
Now they are together, and the spectators are cheering wildly, while
hats, handkerchiefs, and flags wave everywhere.
And then, despite everything the sophomores can do, the boat of the
freshmen forges slowly into the lead.
Over the line they go, with the nose of the freshman boat one foot in
advance, and the race is won—the most remarkable race ever witnessed on
Lake Whitney.
There were ugly rumors about that stone. Of course, somebody threw it,
and, of course, the object had been to knock out Starbright and give the
race to the sophomores. But for the remarkable work of the coxswain,
this dastardly trick would have resulted in the defeat of the freshmen.
The name of the coxswain was on every lip. Earl Knight had become famous
for his wonderful action. He had saved the race—a fact which no man
disputed.
Of course, Merriwell’s friends were well satisfied with the termination
of this exciting contest, while his enemies were equally depressed.
But his friends were vowing they would find out who had thrown that
stone.
“It was a dastardly piece of business!” declared Bart Hodge hotly. “The
fellow ought to be hanged!”
“I think it would be a very good thing to give him a coat of tar and
feathers,” grunted Browning, who was not a little aroused himself.
“Some one must have seen him do it,” said Mason. “It’s our duty to find
out who it was.”
So they set out to investigate, but everybody seemed too excited to
really know anything about it. Some declared no stone had been thrown,
but that Starbright had fainted in the boat. Starbright’s friends,
however, knew better than that.
The Chickering set was disgusted. The result had added another laurel to
the cap of Frank Merriwell, they thought, and they felt very bad about
it. They were among those who declared no stone had been thrown.
Perhaps the most disgusted man was Ben Snodgrass, who had found a spot
on a high piece of land, not far from the finishing-point. When the race
was over he vanished from that spot, and he hoped that no one had seen
him there.
He encountered Arnold, who was looking miserable enough. Snodgrass was
furious.
“Oh, you’re a dandy!” he grated. “You did a nice piece of business,
didn’t you? I thought Earl Knight was ten miles away when the race
began, safely held under lock and key!”
“So did I,” muttered Orson huskily.
“To-morrow you pay those notes, or they go to your grandmother for
collection!” snarled Snodgrass, as he shook them at Arnold, having taken
them from his pockets.
Arnold was white as a sheet. With his teeth clenched, he leaped on
Snodgrass, struck him down, snatched the notes from his hand, and tore
them up. Then he took to his heels, while the baffled plotter arose,
shaking with the rage of defeat and shame.
But at the boat-house a strange thing was happening. The coxswain who
had steered and rowed the freshman boat to victory was bending over Dick
Starbright, whom he was seeking to restore to consciousness. His face
was beaded with perspiration, and down his left cheek from that
remarkable scar ran streaks of blue.
Starbright opened his eyes and saw the other bending over him.
“How are you, Dick?” asked the coxswain.
“You, Frank?” gasped the big stroke, in amazement. “Why, what—what does
it mean?”
Then there was great excitement in the boat-house, for the coxswain,
whom no man observed closely in the rush at getting started, was none
other than Frank Merriwell, who had made a grease-paint scar down his
left cheek and taken the place of Knight.
But the race was won, and Merriwell remained invincible.
THE END.
No. 71 of the MERRIWELL SERIES, entitled “Frank Merriwell’s Strong Arm,”
by Burt L. Standish, has a thrill on every page, and tells of some games
that the reader will never forget.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Transcriber’s Note
On p. 311, a paragraph which appears to be dialogue is lacking an
opening quotation mark. However, it is equally probable that it is
intended to be in the voice of the narrator. The unmatched closing
quotation mark has been removed.
Errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected, and
are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the original.
The following issues should be noted, along with the resolutions.
33.6 to make the necess[s]ary progress Removed.
40.25 Practice it all the time.[”] Added.
50.4 “What has hap[p]ened?” Inserted.
68.17 an ink-well and writing-materials[.] Added.
78.11 Defarge remained motion[e]less Removed.
78.13 [“]You will do so!” Removed.
92.14 [“]No one could mistake Removed.
94.14 “Yes[,/.”] Replaced.
161.12 [“]Three cheers for Frank Merriwell Added.
182.20 It will cheer you up[.] Added.
208.30 to make it anything but a snake[.]” Added.
228.12 the style of wrestling[./,] Replaced.
254.16 gave the four crews the op[p]ortunity Inserted.
277.4 Are you [y/g]oing Replaced.
311.12 Look closer![”] Removed.
End of Project Gutenberg's Frank Merriwell's False Friend, by Burt L. Standish