A FAST RUN
After they had trimmed sail Frank sat still for a while to recover his
breath and, if possible, his composure. He felt that it was necessary to
demand an explanation from his companion. Though they had once or twice
had a difference of opinion, this was the first time that Harry had been
insulting, and Frank found it impossible to pass over what he had said.
When he felt able to speak clearly he looked his companion in the eyes.
"Now," he began, "I'll admit that you can shoot and sail a boat rather
better than I can, but that doesn't entitle you to talk as you did just
now."
"I don't know if it matters, but I've a notion that I did shout," Harry
answered calmly.
"That only makes it worse," Frank burst out warmly. "You couldn't call
it shouting either. I once heard a coyote on the prairie, and it had a
much sweeter voice than you have."
To his astonishment, Harry grinned.
"Oh, well," he said, "but won't you get down under the mainboom before
you go on? I don't want those fellows astern to see there are only two
of us on board the sloop."
Frank did as he suggested, whereupon Harry waved his hand and smiled
graciously.
"Now," he added, "you can go ahead."
Frank found it harder than he had expected. His anger was beginning to
evaporate and Harry's good humor was embarrassing. Still, he made
another effort.
"In the first place," he resumed, "there are just as smart and capable
folks in Massachusetts as there are anywhere else."
"That's quite right," assented Harry. "I don't see why there shouldn't
be, but I suppose you're not through yet. You want to call me down?"
"When you say things of that kind--you--" Frank stammered, and stopped
when he observed his companion still smiling.
"Sure!" said Harry, "I ought to be pounded with the boathook if I'd
meant them."
Frank gazed at him in bewilderment. "You didn't mean them?"
"No," said Harry. "Not a word of it."
"Then why did you say them?"
"Well," replied his friend, "that's a reasonable question. Now it was
mighty important that you should get alongside before our friends astern
came into sight, and though you weren't making very much progress it
seemed to me you were doing all you knew."
"I was," Frank assured him.
"Still, I had an idea that if I could make you jumping mad you might do
a little more. It's hard to tell what you're capable of until you're
real savage, and I thought I'd whip you up a bit where you were most
likely to feel it."
Frank's indignation vanished, and he changed the subject with a laugh.
"Do you think those fellows suspected anything?" he asked.
"No," said Harry. "They were too busy getting sail on her to notice
exactly how far ahead we were when we ran out of the bay, and it will
probably only strike them that they're not quite so far astern as they
expected. All we have to do now is to lead them along toward
Bannington's. I'd rather keep them sailing than have them prowling round
the depot asking questions and, perhaps, sending telegrams, and I've a
notion we can leave them when we like. She's drawing away from them now
and we've only a small jib on her."
His surmise proved correct, for an hour later the other boat had
diminished to a dusky patch of sail far astern. Dusk soon commenced to
fall and the wind seemed to be freshening, but as they swept around a
rocky point Harry changed his course and told Frank to make a stout rope
fast to the bucket and pitch it over.
"It will hold her back and let the other fellows come up," he said with
a grin. "They'll probably figure their boat's faster in any weight of
wind, and we don't want to run out of sight of them."
It grew dark and for a while the sky was barred with heavy clouds until
the moon broke out, when they saw the pursuing craft sweeping up close
astern in the midst of a blaze of silvery radiance. She had now,
however, a mass of canvas swung out on either side of her, and Frank
wondered what sail she was carrying.
"They've boomed out a jib as a spinnaker," Harry explained. "I don't see
why we shouldn't do the same, particularly as it will make them keener
on following us to Bannington's. One of them means to go south with the
steamer if dad gets on to her. Now we'll heave in that bucket, and when
it's done they'll open their eyes."
It was not easy to haul in the bucket. Indeed, once or twice it was
nearly torn away from them, but at length they accomplished the task.
"It's awkward running a boat with a spinnaker unless you have a crew,"
remarked Harry with a somewhat puzzled look. "Still, I feel we ought to
give those fellows a run for their trouble and I can't get clear of them
with only the mainsail drawing. A jib set in the ordinary way is no use
when you're before the wind."
The other boat had drawn almost level with them and came surging along
some forty yards away, rising and falling, with the foam piled up about
her bows, and a great spread of canvas that swung up and down as she
rolled on either side.
"Hello!" shouted Harry. "Where are you going?"
"North," was the laconic answer.
Harry chuckled as he turned to Frank. "Well, as dad will be in Everett
by this time, I don't see why they shouldn't come along with us as far
as they like, but we'll let them draw ahead before we get up the
spinnaker. I'd rather they didn't notice I had to set it alone."
The other boat forged past them, and she was growing dim ahead when
Harry pulled out a bundle of canvas from beneath the side deck.
"It's an extra big jib we carry in light winds, but it makes a good
spinnaker," he said. "You'll have to keep her straight before the wind,
because it's a mighty awkward thing to set."
Frank took the helm and watched his companion as he shook the big sail
out all over the boat, after which he led a rope fastened to one corner
of it through a block at the end of a long spar that lay along the deck.
He thrust this out over her side and made its inner end fast to the foot
of the mast.
"A spinnaker boom always goes forward of the shrouds and you lead the
guy aft outside them," he said. "Get hold of it and stick fast. It's
easy so far, but in a minute the circus will begin. You want two pairs
of hands to set a spinnaker in a breeze of wind."
Frank glanced at the short seas which surged by, glittering in the
moonlight flecked with wisps of snowy froth, and it struck him by the
way the boat swung over them with the foam boiling about her that she
was carrying sufficient canvas in her mainsail. Then Harry, calling to
him to mind his steering, hauled on a halliard and a mass of thrashing
canvas rose up the mast. It blew out like a half-filled balloon, lifting
up the boom, which was run out on the opposite side to the mainsail, and
seemed bent on soaring skyward over the masthead. After that the boom
swung forward with a crash, the mast strained and rattled, and Frank
feared that the great loose sail would tear it out of the boat. He saw
Harry lifted off his feet and flung upon the deck, after which the
forward part of the boat was swept by flying ropes and billowy folds of
canvas, among which his companion seemed to be futilely crawling to and
fro. Presently his voice reached Frank hoarse and breathless.
"Haul on the guy!" he cried. "She'll pitch me over or whip the mast out
if this goes on."
Frank dragged at the rope with all his might, but he could not get an
inch of it in, and he dared not take his right hand off the tiller for
fear of bringing the big mainboom over upon the spinnaker, which would
probably have caused a catastrophe. Indeed, he fancied that one was
inevitable already, since it seemed impossible that Harry could control
the big loose sail which was now wildly hurling itself aloft.
"I can't move it!" he shouted.
Harry came aft with a jump and grasped the guy.
"Now," he said, "together! Get both hands upon it. Hold the tiller with
your elbow."
For the next half minute there was a furious struggle, and as the boom
went up again Frank felt that they were beaten. His companion, however,
hung on desperately, panting hard, and by degrees the boom swung down
and back across the boat and the sail flattened out.
"Make fast!" cried Harry breathlessly. "I can manage the sheet."
He floundered forward to the foot of the mast, and when he came back the
spinnaker was drawing steadily and the sloop had changed her mode of
progress. She no longer rolled viciously or screwed up to windward as
she lifted on a sea, but swayed from side to side with a smooth and easy
swing, and Frank could steer her with a touch upon the tiller. In spite
of that, steering was ticklish work, for the mainboom and the spinnaker
boom went up and came down until they raked the glittering brine
alternately, and Frank realized that it would be singularly easy to
bring one crashing over upon the other. There was no doubt that the boat
was sailing very fast, and he hazarded one swift glance over his
shoulder at the canoe. She was surging along astern, hove up with her
forward half out of the water, and a seething mass of foam hiding the
rest of her. Harry, however, glanced forward somewhat anxiously.
"That boom's lifting too much," he said. "One of us ought to sit on it.
Do you feel able to steer her?"
Frank said that he believed he could manage it.
"Well," said Harry, "if you jibe either sail across you'll either pitch
me in or break my leg, even if you don't roll the boat over. Sing out
the moment you feel her getting too hard upon the helm."
Scrambling forward, he crawled out along the spinnaker boom, to which he
clung precariously, lifted up high one moment and the next swung down
until his feet were just above the foam. Sometimes they splashed in, and
Frank, bracing himself until every nerve was strung up, felt horribly
uneasy. In spite of that, the wild rush through the glittering water
which boiled about the boat was wonderfully exhilarating. She seemed a
mass of straining sail which swayed in the moonlight above an
insignificant strip of hull half buried in snowy foam. Over her black
mainsail peak dim wisps of clouds went streaming by, and from all around
there was a tumult of stirring sound--the clamor at the bows, the swish
of water as the canoe came charging up to her, and the splash of
tumbling seas. Everything ahead, however, was hidden by the sail, and he
was wondering where the other boat was when Harry called to him.
"Slack the guy a foot or two and let her come up a little. Don't let it
get the run of you or you'll pitch me in."
Frank was very cautious as he eased the rope out around a cleat, after
which, when the spinnaker boom had drawn forward, he found that he could
luff the boat. When she had swerved from her course a trifle he could
see the other boat close ahead, and it gave him some idea how fast both
craft were traveling. She seemed nothing but sail. Indeed, except for
the torn-up track of foam that marked her passage, she looked much less
like a boat than some wonderful phantom thing flying at an astonishing
speed across the sea. Swiftly as she sped, however, there was no doubt
that the sloop was creeping up on her, and Frank felt himself quivering
all through as the distance between them lessened yard by yard. Then
suddenly the contour of her canvas changed and she swung around from
leeward across the sloop's bows. Frank's heart gave a sudden leap as he
wondered what he must do and his nerve almost deserted him, until Harry
called again.
"More guy!" he sang out. "They're trying to luff us. We must keep their
weather."
Although fearful that it might overpower him, Frank slacked the guy out
inch by inch, and as the sloop came up a little farther he saw the whole
of the other boat again. The sloop's bowsprit was level with her
quarter. She was scarcely a dozen yards away, leaping, plunging, swaying
through a flung-up mass of foam, but they were steadily drawing up with
her, and the boy could have shouted in the fierce excitement of the
moment. Two or three minutes later they were clear ahead. He could no
longer see the other boat, and he dared not risk a glance back at her.
Indeed, it was a relief to him when Harry came scrambling aft.
"We'll get that guy in again," he said. "Unless something gives out,
those folks won't catch us up."
They had a desperate struggle with the guy, but Harry laughed gayly when
they had made it fast.
"They'll follow us on to Bannington's, sure," he said. "We should be
there in half an hour, and I don't mind allowing that I'll be glad to
get some of this sail off her."
After a while a black bank of cloud spread across the moon, and Frank
wondered anxiously how much of the half hour had gone. He had now only
the pull on the tiller to guide him as they drove on furiously, and the
strain of concentrating all his faculties on his task was beginning to
tell on his strength. Once or twice he imagined that he came perilously
near to bringing the mainboom over, and he would have called Harry to
the helm if he had felt certain that he could cling to the slender
lurching spar as well as his comrade could. He was getting nervous, and
the seething rush of water past the boat was becoming bewildering.
At length, however, he made out a dark and hazy mass over the edge of
the mainsail, which he supposed was land, and in another few minutes a
blinking light appeared. He called to Harry, who merely twisted himself
around on the boom with the object of looking out beneath the sail and
then told him to keep her heading as she was. After that the land rose
rapidly, growing blacker, and a second light appeared. This was closer
to them and Frank, thinking he saw it move, noticed a green blink
beneath it.
Presently both lights disappeared behind the sail, and some minutes
later Frank almost let go the tiller as the deep blast of a steamer's
whistle rang out close ahead. On the instant Harry swung himself down
from the boom.
"Let go your guy!" he shouted. "Down helm; get the mainsheet in!"
Frank could never clearly remember all that followed in the next two or
three minutes during which he was desperately busy. He let the spinnaker
guy run, and the big sail which heaved up the spar beneath it swung
wildly forward. Then he shoved down his helm, and the mainboom slashed
furiously as the boat came up toward the wind. The sheet blocks seemed
to be banging everywhere about him as he hauled at the rope, and he
could hear nothing but the savage thrashing of loosened canvas. Harry
was struggling forward with a mass of billowing sail that threatened to
sweep him off the narrow deck, while flying ropes whipped about him.
Presently, out of the din, there rose another sonorous blast of the
steamer's whistle.
The next moment Frank saw her, heading, it seemed, straight for them,
blazing with tiers of lights, and in almost nerveless haste he pulled up
his tiller. The bolt fell off, he saw Harry flung down with the
spinnaker rolling about him, and he scarcely dared to breathe as the
rows of lights ahead lengthened and the black wedge of the steamer's
bows faded from his sight. It was now her side he was gazing at, and it
was evident that she was swinging around. In less than another minute
she had forged past them, and leaving the helm he scrambled forward to
aid his companion. For a moment they had a brief struggle with flying
ropes and billowing sail, and then they clambered back into the well,
where Frank sat down with a gasp of fervent satisfaction.
"Well," he panted, "I'm glad that's over, and you had better take the
helm. I've had enough."
Harry glanced toward the steamer, which was growing less distinct.
"A close call!" he remarked. "It looked as if she was going slap over
us. I couldn't see her sooner because of the sail. She's running into
Bannington's."
They heard her whistle a little later, but they were then close in with
a shadowy point of land, and looking back Frank made out a faint blur on
the water far behind them which he knew must be the other boat. When he
pointed it out Harry laughed.
"They can't see us against the land, but I've an idea they'll be in soon
enough to learn the steamer didn't pick one of us up," he said. "That
will start them wondering why we drove her so hard and where we've gone.
Now you had better get the stove lighted and the supper on."