ARRESTING THE SWIMMERS
The Police Boat Overhauls Butler
and Sundstrom
(Subject of Illustration)
Dennis F. Butler and Gus Sundstrom, the professional swimmers, on Aug. 9, undertook to try which was the better man in a race of ten miles. Five hundred dollars was wagered to make the thing interesting. A tug and barge were ready off Pier 2, East River, to follow the race. A nickel was tossed up to decide whether they should swim up the North River or up the East River from Pier 2. It rolled off the starting barge into the water and was lost. Another nickel was tossed up and jumped on, and it was found that Butler, who favored the East River, had won. Then Ned Mallahan, whose life seems to consist principally of being chosen referee, climbed out on the tugboat ordered the men to get ready. They went out of sight, and soon reappeared perched on the rail of the barge in bathing costumes limited to trunks only.
When the signal was given both leaped upward and out. like frogs, and went down into the water as straight as nails. Sundstrom got under water first, and both went out of sight. When they came up again both were forging ahead as desperately as though the race had only been a hundred yards, and the men who crowded around them in thirty small boats yelled until they could hardly row.
Each of the men was followed by a small boat with his own particular friends, and each was accompanied by a man wise in the currents and eddies of the river, who shouted out advice as to the best road to take. Sundstrom swam over on his right side with his right ear in the water and his tight arm always out of sight. His left arm was pushed forward over his bead and then brought back with a long sweep. Butler's stroke was much the same, only at every stroke his head sank completely out of sight beneath the water, in a way that made people wonder how long it would take him to drown. Both men were working as bard as they knew how, and the number of strokes made by each was about the same—between thirty-eight and forty to the minute. At first they swam side by side, but Sundstrom, by reaching further out and viciously kicking with his legs, began to creep slowly ahead. When they passed under the bridge, fourteen minutes after the start, Sundstrom had gained about two boat lengths, and kept forging ahead with that advantage for several blocks.
Meanwhile the wildest excitement was loose on the barge, and more small boats were constantly joining the race from all parts of the river. A small young man who sat among kegs and sandwiches on the barge was doing a thriving business, and everything was gay. Even when the police boat Patrol hove in sight opposite Havemeyer's sugar houses no one was worried, because it seemed natural that policemen should want to see how things were getting along. Even when the Patrol lowered a boat and policemen crowded into it no one was alarmed but the young man with the beer, for everybody supposed that they were only coming over to gather him in. But beer was not the only thing the policemen were after. Instead of making for the barge they struck out for Sundstrom, who was now about half a length behind Butler, with half the river between them.
Just as he was reaching out for an extra long stroke a white boat shot in front of him, and policemen leaned over and ordered him to crawl in. He crawled in, and Butler, who saw the performance, crawled into his friend's boat. Both swimmers had slipped off their swimming trunks as soon as they bad got into the water. The crowd on the barge began to yell and hiss at the police, and those in the little boats who were far enough off joined in and helped them. Meanwhile Butler's friends were rowing him off with all speed. This hurt the feelings of Sundstrom. who didn't want to be alone, and he dived overboard and undertook to obtain his own freedom by scooting along under the water toward his brother's boat. The police waited for him to come up, and then one drew his club and another a revolver, and all yelled at him to come back. At the appearance of the club Sundstrom only stood on his head and stuck his long legs out of the water. But the revolver persuaded him, and he let himself be taken again.
Then Butler was gathered in, and both were lugged off to the police boat. The police explained that the charge was violation of the Sunday law, and, after gathering in the pale young man and his aides, they departed. Ed. Mallahan said it was no race, and he and Mike Donovan went off in a small rowboat, without waiting to say more. Butler and Sundstrom were taken to the Church street police station, and at midnight were wondering when their backers would get around to bail them.
And: (NY Daily Graphic 10 Aug 1885)
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