“They’re not going to win,” answered Dick, quietly but firmly.

“All ready?” asked Frank Holden, as the boats drew up side by side near the boathouse float.

“We are!” sang out Tom.

“Ready!” answered Jerry Koswell.

“Go!” shouted Frank.

Four pairs of oars dropped into the water simultaneously, and away shot the two craft side by side.  There was no disguising the fact that Koswell and Larkspur were good oarsmen, and what was equally important, they had done much practicing together.  On the other hand, while Dick and Tom could row well, they had pulled together but twice since coming to Brill.

“You’ve got your work cut out for you!” shouted Songbird.  “But never mind.  Go in and win!”

For the first quarter of a mile the two row-boats kept close together.  Occasionally one would forge ahead a few inches, but the other would speedily overtake it.  Then, however, the Rover boys settled down to a strong, steady stroke, and forged a full length ahead.

“See! see!  The Rovers are winning!” shouted Max in delight.

“That’s the way to do it!” cried Stanley, “Keep it up!  You’re doing nobly!”

“Show ’em the way home!” added Songbird.

“Pull, Jerry!  Pull!, Bart!” screamed Dudd Flockley to his cronies.  “Don’t let them beat you!”

Before long the island was reached, and the Rovers rounded it a length and a half ahead.  This made Jerry Koswell frantic, and he called on Larkspur to increase the stroke.

“All right, I’m with you,” was the short answer.

The increase in the stroke speedily told, and inch by inch the second boat began to overhaul the first Then Tom made a miss, sending a shower of water into the air.  At this the craft containing Koswell and Larkspur shot ahead.

“Hurrah!  That’s the way to do it!” yelled Flockley in delight.  “Even money on the green boat!”

“Take you,” answered Spud Jackson promptly.  “How much?”

“A fiver.”

“All right.”

“Steady, Tom,” cautioned Dick.  “Now, then Ready?”

“Yes.”

“Then bend to it.  One, two, three, four.”

Again the Rover boys went at the rowing with a will, increasing their stroke until it was six to the minute more than that of Koswell and Larkspur.  The latter were frantic, and tried to do likewise, but found it impossible.  Inch by inch the Rovers’ craft went ahead.  Now it was half a length, then a length, then two lengths.

“Say, there is rowing for you!” was the comment of a senior.  “Just look at them bend to it!”

“Yes, and look at the quick recovery,” added another fourth-year student.

From two lengths the Rovers went three lengths ahead.  Then Koswell missed a stroke, and tumbled up against Larkspur.

“Hi!  What are you doing?” spluttered Larkspur in disgust.

“Cou—­couldn’t hel—­help it,” panted Jerry, He was all but winded, for the pulling had been too much for him.