A Cadet's Honor: Mark Mallory's Heroism

by Upton Sinclair

  CHAPTER XXVI.

  THE FINISH OF A RACE.

  So it was; certain of the cadets, being piqued at the evidentsuperiority which that B. J. Mallory (his usual title by this time) haddisplayed in the water, had requested their captain to take him down.The "captain" had good-naturedly declared that he was willing to try;and the shout that attracted Bull's attention was caused by the plebe'sready assent to the proposition for an impromptu race.

  "Fischer ought to be ashamed of himself, to have anything to do withhim!" was Bull Harris' angry verdict. "I almost hope the plebe beatshim."

  "I don't!" vowed Murray, emphatically. "Let's hurry up, and see it."

  The latter speaker suited the action to the word; Bull followed,growling surlily.

  "Look at that gang of plebes!" he muttered. "They're the ones who helpedMallory take away the fellow we were hazing; they think they're right init, now."

  "Yes," chimed in Baby. "And see that fellow, Texas, making a fool ofhimself."

  "That fellow Texas" was "making a fool of himself" by dancing about inwild excitement, and raising a series of cowboy whoops in behalf of hisfriend, and of plebes in general.

  "There they are, ready to go!" cried Murray, betraying some excitement.

  "I wish the confounded plebe'd never come up again!" growled Bull, inreturn, striving hard to appear indifferent.

  "I bet Fischer'll do him!" exclaimed the Baby. "He swims like a fish.Say, they're going to race to that tree way down the river. Golly, butthat's a long swim!"

  "Long nothing!" sneered Vance. "I could swim that a dozen times. But,say, they'll finish in the rain; look at that thunderstorm coming!"

  In response to this last remark, the crowd cast their eyes in thedirection indicated. They found that the prediction seemed likely to befulfilled. To the north, up the Hudson, dense, black clouds alreadyobscured the sky, and a strong, fresh breeze, that smelled of rain, wasspringing up from thence, and making the swimmers shiver apprehensively.

  The preparation for the race went on, however; nobody cared for thestorm.

  "Gee whiz!" cried the Baby, in excitement. "Won't it be exciting! Idon't mind the rain. I'm going to run down along the shore, and watchit! Hooray!"

  "Rats!" growled Bull, angrily. "I don't care about any old race. I'mgoing to keep dry, let me tell you!"

  Even the damper of his idol's displeasure could not change MasterEdwards' mind, however; he and nearly the whole crowd with him made adash down the shore for a vantage point to see the finish.

  "There! They're off!"

  The cry came a moment later, as the two lightly-clad figures stepped tothe mark from which they were to start.

  They were about of one size, magnificently proportioned, both of them,and the race bid fair to be a close one.

  "Ready?" called the starter, in a voice that rang down the shore.

  "Yes," responded Mark, and at the same moment a heavy cloud swept underthe sun, and the air grew dark and chilly. The wind increased to agale, blowing the spray before it; and then----

  "Go!" called the starter.

  The two dived as one figure; both took the water clean and low, with noperceptible splash; two heads appeared a moment later, forging aheadside by side; a cheer from the cadets arose, that drowned, for a moment,the roars of the storm; and the race was on.

  It is remarkable how closely nature follows a rule in her most perfectwork; here were two figures, built by her a thousand miles apart, racingthere, and each striving with might and main, yet the sum total of theenergy that each was able to expend so nearly alike that yard by yardthey struggled on, without an inch of difference between them.

  "Fischer! Fischer!" rose the shouts of the cadets.

  "Mallory! Mallory!" roared the excited plebes, backed up by anoccasional "Wow!" in the stentorian tones of the mighty Texan, who, bythis time, was on the verge of epilepsy.

  Onward went the two heads, still side by side, seeming to creep throughthe water at a snail's pace to the excited partisans on the shore. Butit was no snail's pace to the two in the water; each was struggling ingrim earnestness, putting into every stroke all the power that was inhim. Neither looked at the other; but each could tell, from the cries ofthe cadets, that his opponent was pressing him closely.

  Nearer and nearer they came to the far distant goal; higher and higherrose the shouts:

  "Fischer! Fischer!" "Mallory! Mallory!" "He's got him!" "No." "Hooray!"

  "Gee! but it is exciting," screamed Baby. "Go it, Fischer! Do him!"

  "And I wish that confounded 'beast' was in Hades!" snarled Bull, whosehatred of Mark was deeper, and more malignant than that of his friend.

  "I believe I could kill him!"

  During all this excitement the storm had been sweeping rapidly up, itsmajesty unnoticed in the excitement of the race. Far up the Hudson couldbe seen a driving cloud of rain; and the wind had risen to a hurricane,while the air grew dark and chill.

  The race was at its most exciting stage--the finish, and the cadets weredancing about, half in a frenzy, yelling incoherently, at the two stillstruggling lads, when some one, nobody knew just who, chanced to glancefor one brief instant up the river. A moment later a cry was heard thatbrought the race to a startling and unexpected close.

  "Look! look! The sailboat!"

  The cry sounded even above the roar of the storm and the shouts of thecrowd. The cadets turned in alarm and gazed up the river. What they sawmade them forget that such a thing as a race ever existed.

  Right in the teeth of the wind, in the center of the river, was a smallcatboat, driven downstream, before the gale, with the speed of alocomotive. In the boat was one person, and the person was a girl. Shesat in the stern, waving her hands in helpless terror, and even as thespectators stared, the boat gibed with terrific violence, and a volumeof water poured in over the gunwale.

  The crowd was thrown into confusion; a babel of excited voices arose,and the race was forgotten in an instant.

  The racers were not slow to notice it; both of them turned to gazebehind them, and to take in the situation.

  "Help! Help!" called a faint voice from the distant sailboat.

  Help! Who was there to help? There was not a boat in sight; the cadetswere running up and down in confusion, hunting for one in vain. Theywere like a nest of frightened ants, without a leader, skurrying thisway and that, and only contributing to the general alarm. The girlherself could do nothing, and so it seemed as if help were far away,indeed.

  There was one person in the crowd, however, who kept his head in themidst of all that confusion. And the person was Mark. Exhausted thoughhe was by his desperate swim, he did not hesitate an instant. Before theamazed cadet captain at his side could half comprehend his intention, heturned quickly in the water, and, with one powerful stroke, shot awaytoward the center of the stream.

  The cadets on the shore scarcely knew whether to cry out in horror, orto cheer the act they saw. They caught one more glimpse of the catboatas it raced ahead before the gale; they saw the gallant plebe strugglingin the water.

  And then the storm struck them in its fury. A blinding sheet of drivingrain, that darkened the air and drove against the river, and rose againin clouds of spray; a gale that lashed the water into fury; and darknessthat shut out the river, and the boat, and the swimmer, and left nothingbut a humbled group of shivering cadets.