"Dip a little deeper--pull strong!" The exciting moment of the race had come.

The spectators on the shore gazed with breathless interest upon the spectacle, unable, though "Zephyr stock was up," to determine the result.
Not a muscle in Frank's face moved, and steadily and anxiously his crew watched and followed his movements.
"Steady!" said he, in his low, impressive tone, as he quickened a trifle more the stroke of the crew.
The Butterflies were "used up," incapable of making that vigorous effort which might have carried them in ahead of the Zephyr.
"A little deeper," continued Frank.

"Now for it!" As he spoke, with a sudden flash of energy he drove his oarsmen to their utmost speed and strength, and the Zephyr shot by the judges' boat full a length and a half ahead of the Butterfly.
"Cease--rowing!" said he.

"Ready--up!" The Butterfly came in scarcely an instant behind, and her oars were poised in air, like those of her rival.
A long and animating shout rang along the shore, when the result of the race was apparent, and the band struck up "See the conquering hero comes.".