It certainly looked as if Lew Flapp's crony had a good chance of winning.
"Told you he would win," said Flapp to Powell.
"The race isn't over yet," answered Songbird briefly.
"Humph! Do you think Dick Rover can catch Jackson when he is five yards behind"?
"Not quite as much as that, Flapp, and he is gradually crawling up." "He won't make it, I tell you." "Perhaps he will." "I'll bet you five to one that he won't," insisted the big boy.
"I won't bet any more." "You're afraid," sneered Flapp.
Again Powell went down into his pocket and drew forth another dollar.
"There you are," he said to the stakeholder.
Lew Flapp had not expected this, but he quickly covered the one dollar with a five, feeling sure he was going to win.
"You'll never see your two dollars again, Powell," he said.
"Perhaps you'll never see your six again," answered Songbird, and moved away to watch the race from another point along the island shore.
Jackson was certainly swimming well, although the terrific strain was beginning to tell upon him.
"Go it, Jackson," roared Lew Flapp.

"Go it, old Moneybags!" "Moneybags" was a signal among many of the cadets, signifying that the speaker had bet money on the result.

Betting at the academy was strictly prohibited, but wagers were often made on the sly.
Hearing this cry, Jackson renewed his struggles and for a few seconds held his lead.
But now Dick Rover was crawling up inch by inch.

He had passed Tom, who was left hopelessly in the rear, and now he was pressing Larry.
"The major and the captain are tie!" "See, Captain Rover is crawling ahead!" "Swim, Jackson, swim!" yelled Lew Flapp frantically.

"You must win!" And Pender took up the call, and so did Rockley.
Again Jackson did his best.