The light shone on his wet and dripping body. The watching boys, hushing their breathing, for fear they would be detected, watched his every movement. “There’s the boat,” Addison grated, glaring at the handsome new shell of the visitors. “I’ll soon spoil its beauty!” Then he went to the wall and took down from some brackets an ax, with which he approached the boat. There was a glare in his eyes, and his pale face was contorted with rage. “Now! he cried, I’ll do the job!” He raised the ax. “Stop!” Out leaped Spencer and Diamond, and the ax was torn from Addison’s hand before he could carry out his dastardly design. CHAPTER XVIII—THE RACE The race was on at last. At the crack of the pistol, the three boats had jumped away, Alexandria taking a lead of half a length by a quick start. The course was straightaway down the river, but against the tide. A large crowd had assembled near the start and the finish to watch the race. Those at the starting point cheered wildly as the boats shot away. Alexandria rowed with short, snappy strokes that made the boat jump, jump, jump all the time. The strokes of the Blue Cove crew and the Yale Combine were much alike. Toots was coxswain in the Yale boat, and proud indeed he was of the position. His black face shone with delight. On the river was a small steam launch that was loaded with admirers of the Alexandria crew. They waved hand and hats and shouted like a lot of wild Indians when they saw the Alexandria boat increase its lead so that clear water could be seen between it and the other boats. With a regular, long swinging stroke, the other boats kept side by side for a time. Then Frank’s crew began to gain slightly on the Blue Cove lads. Steadily Merriwell drove them on. He did not attempt a stiff spurt so soon, but forced them gradually, drawing away from Blue Cove. Soon the Yale boat was close behind that of Alexandria. The latter spurted, and then it was that Frank held close, like a leech, determined not to permit the crew from up the river any further advantage. The stroke of the Yale crew was strong and steady, sending the boat through the water at high speed. Before a mile had been made the short stroke of the Alexandria men was beginning to tell on them. And Blue Cove was clinging in a remarkable manner, for all of the fact that it had lost one of its best men at the last moment. Anson Addison, caught in the dastardly attempt to ruin Merriwell’s boat, had been dropped from the crew and expelled from the club. In vain Spencer had urged Noel Spudd to take Addison’s place in the boat. Spudd longed to do so, but did not dare disobey his father to such an extent. So another and far less valuable man was substituted, and Blue Cove felt that it had very little show of winning the race. “You must save us, Merriwell,” said Kent Spencer, a few moments before the start was made. “I am sure we’ll do our best,” nodded Frank.