However much the hearts of the crew beat with agitation, they were outwardly as cool as though the Butterfly had been a mile behind them.
It is true, some of the Zephyrs, as they continued to gaze at Frank's calm and immovable features, wondered that he did not quicken the stroke; but no one for an instant lost confidence in him.

"Frank knew what he was about." This was the sentiment that prevailed, and each member looked out for himself, leaving all the rest to him.
The Butterflies were quickening their stroke every moment, and consequently were continuing to increase the distance between the two boats.

Every muscle was strained to its utmost tension.

Every particle of strength was laid out, until Tony, fearful that some of the weaker ones might "make a slip," dared require no more of them.

But they were already more than two boats' lengths ahead of their rival, and he had everything to hope.
Still the Zephyr pulled that same steady stroke.