"I take it all back, Grant," exclaimed John. "You're all right."
"It was certainly close though," said Fred solemnly.
"But 'close' doesn't count in any game, you know," laughed Grant.
"How about quoits?" inquired George.
"That's right, Pop," exclaimed Grant, "it does count in quoits, but I
don't know of any other."
"We'd better attend to our sailing," warned Fred. "Trim that sheet in a
little, String."
"That enough?"
"All right," said Fred. "My, I hope this breeze holds."
"It's getting stronger, I think," said George.
"It does seem to be," agreed Grant. "It's dead ahead of us now, but if
it doesn't change, it'll be right behind us on the last leg of the race.
I think it's always fun to be able to finish straight before the wind."
"That's true," exclaimed John. "We go in the opposite direction the
second round, don't we?"
The Balsam was skimming over the water rapidly on a long tack to
leeward. Behind her came the Spruce, also making good time and with
about the same distance between the two boats that had separated them at
the start.
"They're pointing up a little more than we are, I think," remarked
Grant, after a glance at their rival.
"We're all right, though," said Fred confidently. "I don't believe in
sailing as close hauled as that."
"Perhaps not," agreed Grant. "At any rate you know more about it than
the rest of us. We'll have to do as you say whether we like it or not."
They rounded the first stake thirty yards ahead of the Spruce. Fred's
tactics on the first leg had proved successful, anyway.
"It's easy," exclaimed George confidently, as they slid past the stake
and settled back for the long reach to the next mark.
"Don't talk like that, Pop," urged John earnestly. "Don't ever boast or
get overconfident; you're sure to regret it if you do."
"Knock on wood, Pop," laughed Fred. "That'll take away all the bad
effects."
The four friends were in excellent spirits, for they enjoyed a
comfortable lead which seemed to be steadily increasing.
"There they come around the stake now," exclaimed Grant, gazing behind
them. "They gave it a little more room than we did."
"And consequently sailed a little bit farther than necessary," added
Fred. "A few feet doesn't seem very much at the time but in the long run
it amounts to a good deal."
"On the other hand," said John, "if you cut too close to the stake
you're apt to foul it and then you're disqualified."
"The answer to that is easy enough," laughed Fred. "Don't hit it."
"You fellows take more chances than I would," said John doubtfully. "I
believe in playing safe."
Steadily the Balsam drew away from her rival. The wind was strong now
and the lake was dotted with white-caps.
"Perhaps the Balsam is a rough-water sailor," remarked Grant. "At any
rate she seems to be doing splendidly in this breeze."
"If the breeze should die down they'd probably catch right up to us,"
said Fred. "Let's hope it doesn't."
"What makes you think they'd catch us?" demanded John.
"Nothing. Some boats sail better in one kind of a breeze than in others.
This seems to be suited to a strong wind and I thought it was possible
that the Spruce would do better in a light one."
"But they're exactly alike," objected John.
"I know it," replied Fred. "That doesn't necessarily mean they'll sail
just alike, though. I've seen ten boats all built on the same model, the
same size, and everything about them the same, and yet some of them seem
to be twice as fast as others."
"It must be in the one who handles the boat, then," said George.
"Not at all. I've seen them swap crews and the same boats win."
"How do you explain it?" inquired Grant, who always liked to have a
reason for everything.
"I can't, and I don't believe any one else can, either. Some boats seem
to do well under certain conditions, and that's all there is to it."
"Well, the present conditions seem to suit the Balsam pretty well,"
exclaimed George. "Let's hope they continue."
The second stake was reached with the Balsam still farther in the lead
than before. The wind steadily increased in strength and forced the
sturdy little catboat through the water at an amazing speed.
"I didn't know she could go so fast," exclaimed John enthusiastically.
"None of us did, I guess," said Grant. "She's all right though, isn't
she?"
"I should say so," cried George. "Say, just look at her go," and he
scrambled over to the other side of the boat. The Balsam was heeled far
over and the lee rail was awash. Now and then a wave, a little larger
than its fellows, slapped lustily against the side and covered the crew
with spray.
"We'll have to reef her if this wind gets much stronger," said Fred just
before they had completed the first round.
"What's the use?" demanded George. "It's great this way, and we're
certainly gaining on those fellows all the time."
"Yes," said Fred, "but you don't want to lose the mast, do you?"
"Or we might upset," added Grant.
"Suppose we do," cried George. "It won't hurt us."
"But we'd lose the race just the same," said Fred. "Let that sheet out a
little there, String. Whenever she heels over like that, give her a
little more rope and I'll bring her up into the wind for a second."
"That makes us lose time, doesn't it?" asked Grant.
"I think so. It seems to me that if we stopped and put a reef in the
sail we'd sail more evenly and as a result we'd go faster."
"Those fellows in the Spruce don't seem to be putting in any reefs, I
notice," remarked George. "If they don't need them I don't see why we
do."
"But the breeze is getting so much stronger," insisted Fred. "It really
seems to me that we should put in one reef anyway."
"How long will it take us?"
"Not two minutes. We can do it in no time."
"We'd better wait until we round this next stake, I think," said Grant.
"We can do it, then."
"All right," agreed George. "I don't believe in it, though. I love it
this way," and he exclaimed delightedly as the Balsam heeled far over
and the spray from the crest of one of the white-caps drenched him from
head to foot.
"It's cold, though," objected John.
"Nonsense," cried George. "If you were half a man you wouldn't mind it."
John merely shivered, and placing Grant in temporary charge of the sheet
he crawled forward and drawing his sweater out from under the deck, he
put it on.
"Get ready now," warned Fred. "The stake is just ahead."
"And we're going to take in a reef as soon as we round it. Is that
right?" inquired Grant.
"That's the idea," said Fred. "Here we go," and putting the tiller hard
over he brought the Balsam cleanly around the mark and headed her up
into the wind.
"Let go that topping lift, Pop!" he cried. "Loose your halyards there,
Grant! Now, String, let's get busy!"
He left his post, and ordering and helping his comrades, he took charge
of the work of reefing. He had predicted two minutes for the work, but
it took at least five, and before they had finished the Spruce was
almost up to them.
"Hurry, Fred, hurry!" urged George. "They're catching us."
"All right," cried Fred, springing back to the tiller. "Haul in your
sheet there, String!"
The bow of the Balsam swung slowly around and as the sail filled she
began to slip through the water once more. Not twenty-five yards behind
them now came the Spruce, her full sail spread. Thomas waved his hand
and shouted something to the four Go Ahead boys but the wind blew the
sound away and the words were lost.
"What did he say?" demanded John.
"I didn't hear," said George. "He probably said they'd catch us in a few
minutes, and I guess they will, too."
"You're a pessimist, Pop," said Fred, but he looked back anxiously at
the Spruce plowing along behind them.
"No, I'm not either," exclaimed George. "I do think we made a mistake in
reefing that sail, though."
"Wait and see," said Fred, but he himself appeared to be anxious.
"If the wind should die down we'd be in a nice fix," said George in a
discouraged tone of voice.
"It doesn't seem to be going down now, though," said Grant. "Just see us
go! And look at all the white-caps. I really think we're doing better
than we did before."
"But we're not gaining on them any more," insisted George gloomily.
"We don't need to," laughed Grant. "All we have to do is to hold our
lead."
The relative position of the two boats was unchanged at the end of the
first leg on the second round. The Balsam still enjoyed her lead of
twenty-five yards over her rival. They had covered only a short distance
on the second leg when George suddenly remarked that the wind was dying
down.
"I know it is," he insisted. "Just look; we aren't tipping half as much
as we were."
"I hope you're wrong, Pop," said Fred anxiously.
"But I'm not. Can't you see it yourself?"
"Perhaps you're right. At any rate it may only be a lull."
In silence the four young sailors watched the sail and looked out over
the water and gazed fearfully at the Spruce so close behind them now.
"She's gaining," announced John.
"No doubt of it," said George. "What shall we do?"
"What can we do?" demanded John in despair.
"Can't we take the reef out?"
"If we did," said Fred, "we'd have to stop, and they'd surely pass us,
and whether we'd ever catch them or not would be a question."
"But won't they pass us if we don't take the reef out?" demanded George.
"I don't know. We've got to take a chance either way."
"And no matter what we do," added George, "we're bound to lose."
"Cheer up, Pop," urged Grant. "The wind hasn't gone down very much and
they haven't passed us yet."
"Can't we take the reef out while we're going like this?" demanded
George.
"Oh, we can," said Fred. "It would be awfully hard, though, and
dangerous, too; besides that, we might tear the sail."
"Let me try it," begged George. "We mustn't lose this race and that's
all there is about it."
Working under Fred's guidance, and taking desperate chances George
finally succeeded in shaking the reef out of the sail. The halyards were
tightened and once again the Balsam moved along under her full spread of
canvas.
"Now I feel better," sighed George, as he settled back in the cockpit
once more. "That short sail worried me."
"We certainly lost a lot of time fooling around there," observed Fred.
"It was all my fault, too."
"Forget it," exclaimed Grant. "We're still ahead of them, aren't we?"
"But not much," said Fred, and he glanced hastily around at the Spruce
not more than fifteen yards distant now.
"I hope they don't get our wind," said George. "It's certainly going
down and we need every bit of it we can get."
"You're right, Pop," said John. "The wind is lighter and you know what
Fred said about the Spruce probably doing better than the Balsam in a
light breeze."
Still maintaining their slight advantage the Balsam turned the last
stake and started down the home stretch. The wind was dead astern of
both boats now and the sails were stretched at right angles to the mast
in order to get the full benefit of the breeze.
"They'll blanket us, I'm afraid," muttered Fred gloomily.
"What do you mean by that?" asked George.
"Why, they'll get right behind us and shut off all our wind."
"Don't let them do it, then."
"You don't think I'd let them on purpose, do you?"
"They'll catch us on this straight away, I'm afraid," said Grant in a
low voice. The boats were so close together now it was necessary to
speak softly to keep from being overheard.
"Everybody move back towards the stern," ordered Fred. "Perhaps if we
get her bow out of water a little she'll do better."
They followed Fred's directions, but little by little the Spruce crept
up on them. The wind was dropping rapidly; it seemed that on this
woodland lake storms and winds came and went with equal facility.
The Spruce had blanketed their boat momentarily as Fred had predicted.
Drawing even, however, the Balsam once more caught the breeze and the
racers moved forward on even terms.
"We certainly have some great finishes, don't we?" called Hugh from the
other boat.
"Well, I should say so!" exclaimed Grant. "They're heartbreaking."
All at once George left his seat and moved forward.
"Where are you going, Pop?" demanded Fred. "You'd better come back here
and sit down."
George, however, paid no attention to this advice nor did he deign any
answer. He continued serenely on his way until his reached the forward
deck. Straightening himself up, his amazed companions saw him place his
right hand on the mast and scratch it with his finger-nails.