The Go Ahead Boys in the Island Camp Part 33

He used a powerful overhand stroke and when he was moving slowly he was practically tireless. He now was worried, however. He did not dare look around to see where George was for fear he might lose a few precious inches. He did not expect to see Fred, for he knew that his small comrade was a very poor swimmer. He had considered himself and George about on a par and he wondered how it could have happened that he had outdistanced him so far. Had he known the truth undoubtedly he would have been just as angry as Fred had been and his speed certainly would not have been benefited as a result.

Ahead of him he saw Grant and ahead of Grant he spied the dock and Mr.

Maxwell standing on it waiting. It seemed very far away. Beside him swam Hugh and Thomas, one on his right and the other on his left. They were breathing hard and splashing heavily, but still they did not seem to be slowing up.

John put forth every effort. He too was becoming short of wind and his arms and legs began to feel the strain. It had been a hard day and this last contest was a severe test for all the boys.

"I must beat one of them! I must! I must!" John kept saying to himself over and over again. Then the next time he saw his rivals Thomas was several feet ahead of him and gaining.

John groaned. Hugh still kept abreast of him and try as hard as he could John seemed powerless to shake him off. He gritted his teeth and strove desperately to make his arms go still faster. Nature could not be forced however; his arms seemed made of lead and every time he raised them he wondered if it would not be the last.

Far ahead he saw Grant only a few feet from the dock. Thomas, too, was many yards in advance of him now. "I simply can't keep it up any longer," thought John, and the next instant, "Don't quit," he told himself, and he forced his tired muscles to carry him along a few strokes more. He set his jaw determinedly and decided he'd keep it up till he reached the dock no matter what happened later.

Suddenly an idea struck him. "Perhaps Hugh is just as tired as I am," he thought. "In that case all I have to do is to keep on swimming at a moderate pace and I'll beat him."

Hugh was certainly splashing more than he had been and evidently was in trouble. "I'll get him yet," thought John and for a moment he felt stronger. "I've forgotten the others though," he suddenly realized and the fear that some one would creep past him before the finish a.s.sailed him all at once. He decided to roll over on his back and look.

He did so and behind him he saw only two swimmers. They were not near enough to be dangerous however and John did not even recognize them.

That two of the contestants were missing he did not notice at all.

Often when swimming long distances he had turned over up on his back in order to rest and now he was surprised to find how even a few strokes in that position relieved his aching muscles. The finish was close at hand now, however, and he dared not continue in that fashion any longer. He rolled over and resumed his overhand stroke.

Grant was already on the dock standing beside Mr. Maxwell. Thomas had just reached the goal and was pulling himself up out of the water. To his surprise John noticed that in spite of the fact that he had been swimming on his back Hugh had not gained anything on him. His brief rest had refreshed him considerably and with added confidence he struck out for the finish. Without really noticing it he was aware that Hugh was floundering more than ever. He did not turn to look, however, but concentrated every effort on his swimming, and still struggled on towards the goal.

He lost sight of Hugh; he saw nothing but the dock ahead of him. His lungs cried for mercy and his muscles ached, but vigorously he still kept going. After what seemed centuries he reached the dock, not knowing whether he had beaten Hugh out or not. In fact he did not care much now.

He had gained the dock at last and he was happy.

He raised his eyes to look about him and what he saw was very strange indeed. Mr. Maxwell, standing fully clothed on the dock, suddenly dove right over his head into the water.

CHAPTER XXIII-AN UNEXPECTED HONOR

Tired as he was John realized that this was strange proceeding. He tried to pull himself up on the dock, but he was too weak and slipped back into the water.

"Grant," he called, "give me a lift."

"Come ahead," cried Grant, bending over and extending his hand to John.

With this help the tired boy lifted himself out of the water and sank down on the dock almost completely exhausted. He lay flat on his back, his eyes closed.

"Where's Hugh?" he panted. "Did I beat him?"

There was no answer.

"Grant," said John. "Did I beat Hugh?"

Still no reply, and he opened his eyes to see what the reason for the silence was. He slowly raised himself to one elbow and looked about him.

Black spots danced before his eyes and at first he saw nothing; then his eyes suddenly became accustomed to the surroundings and he gasped. For the moment he had forgotten that he had seen Mr. Maxwell jump into the water but he remembered it now and he saw the reason for it.

Grant had finished the race and not greatly tired had been standing alongside Mr. Maxwell watching the others approach. The race between John and Hugh was what interested them most for they saw that Thomas would finish an easy second and so the final outcome of the meet depended on these two.

"A pretty tight race," remarked Grant.

"I should-" began Mr. Maxwell when he suddenly stopped and stared.

John had just turned over on his stomach again for the final dash. Hugh was at his shoulder and the onlookers were enjoying the close finish.

Suddenly, however, Hugh disappeared from sight. He simply sank beneath the water with no warning whatsoever and John reached the dock alone.

"He's exhausted," cried Mr. Maxwell, and without waiting an instant he dived into the water, fully clothed as he was, to rescue his nephew.

When John opened his eyes he saw Mr. Maxwell in the water, swimming for the dock with one hand and holding Hugh by the hair of his head with the other.

"What's the trouble, Grant?" demanded John.

"Hugh sank."

"What was the matter with him?"

"He was tired out, I guess. Here, let me have him now," he said to Mr.

Maxwell and leaning out from the dock he seized Hugh by the arms. His uncle gave the half-drowned boy a boost and he was soon stretched out at full length on the little wharf.

"That was a close call," exclaimed Mr. Maxwell grimly as he clambered out after him. "It's a lucky thing he was so near the dock. Where are the rest of the boys?"

"Here are two of them," said Grant as Franklin and Herbert swam leisurely up to the dock. Seeing that they were hopelessly beaten they had not exerted themselves the last seventy-five yards of the race.

"Where are the other two?" exclaimed John anxiously. He had recovered most of his breath and strength now and not seeing George or Fred was fearful lest the fate that Hugh had so narrowly escaped had befallen them.

"Turn around and you'll see."

George and Fred came walking towards the dock.

"Where did you two come from?" demanded John in surprise. "The last I saw of you was when we all dived off that rock together. How did you get up on sh.o.r.e that way?"

"Have you ever been kicked by a mule?" asked Fred.

"What are you talking about?" John was completely mystified.

"I asked if you'd ever been kicked by a mule."

"What has that got to do with this race?"

"Simply this," said Fred. "A mule kicked me in the stomach at the start of the race and I had to quit."

"I think you're crazy," exclaimed John. "What happened to you, Pop?"

"He was the mule," said Fred. "Who won the race anyway?"