the goal, handicapped as they were by a useless man, who was more or less in the way.
The cord was stretched across the water, and both boats shot under the bridge at what seemed to be the same time.
Which had won?
Immediately a dispute arose between the adherents of both schools.
"It's Clifford's race!" shouted some.
"Columbia was just a foot ahead when they reached the string! Columbia wins!" challenged others, ready to stick up for their colors to the end.
"Leave it with the umpire! What's the matter with his decision? That's what he's here for!" cried still others.
Great was the suspense while the committee gathered together to talk it over and render a decision, based upon what the umpire said, and their own observations; for they had been holding the two ends of that cord, and ought to know what the result must be.
"Look! there's Colonel Sharpe climbing up on the bridge. He's at the head of the committee, and he's going to announce the winner!" called one man.
The crowd at first applauded wildly, for they wanted to know what had been the decision of that committee, formed of citizens from each town.
"Silence!"
