The finish was yet a third of a mile away, and the pace was terrific, for all realized that Mark Merrill had taken tremendous chances for losing by his play at the start, for every one now knew that he had been purposely playing. Nearer came the goal, and Perry still held his place on Clemmons’ quarter. But Mark had lessened the daylight between them until he was but a length astern. “He is dropping back!” yelled Bascomb. But no, he was only drawing off to one side to get good passing room, for he did not like to pass too near Scott Clemmons. He did lose half a length by this, but he had a clear reach ahead of him. Ashore the excitement was dreadful, the suspense painful. “Can mortal man do it?” was the question on every lip. The rear scullers had stopped rowing, and were watching the race. There were three prizes, and the three men ahead, Clemmons, Perry and Merrill, in the order named, could never be overhauled. The others were not in the race, even McNulty knew this. The fourth class was winning the day, no matter who held first at the finish of that superb trio. With a grand spurt Mark Merrill leveled himself with Perry, and a yell burst from every lip, as that same performance was repeated--Mark raised his cap to Perry. Only a couple of hundred yards away was the finish. Could he win it? Clemmons was pulling forty strokes to the minute, long, telling strokes they were, too, and the goal was near. Merrill was upon his quarter, then abreast, then his sharp prow shot ahead amid the wildest enthusiasm, while suddenly as though to show he knew his strength and speed far better than all others he got daylight between his rival so well that he sped like an arrow across his bows, and with a quick turn again fairly threw himself over the line, while the fact that Bemis Perry had suddenly forged a quarter of a length ahead of Clemmons and came in second, was hardly noticed in the pandemonium that followed the triumph of the “water wizard.” [Illustration: “Mark Merrill crossed the line a winner.” (See page 132)] CHAPTER XXXIII. “HONORS EASY.” The wild applause which greeted Mark Merrill as the boat race ended with his shooting across the finish a length in advance of Bemis Perry, who was a quarter of his boat ahead of Scott Clemmons, lasted for some time. At last the cadets got the victor upon their shoulders and carried him around in spite of his great desire to hide himself from the furore his wonderful endurance and phenomenal speed had created. “Every record broken!” cried one. “He is a marvel!” “Why, he played with Clemmons!” “He rows as he swims!” “The fourth class has bagged the prizes this time.” “Look out now that Merrill does not have honors easy in the classrooms.” Such were the expressions heard upon every side as the enthusiastic cadets roamed about, talking over the race. As for Bemis Perry, he accepted the congratulations in his quiet way, and remarked: