"Well!" exclaimed Bob. "Look at the boats!"
The _Vagabond_ was cutting her way through the sunlit waters at the best
pace of which she was capable--"easily twelve miles an hour, I'll bet
you," according to Nelson. Bob had the wheel, and was turning to port as
the point drew abreast. Once around the lighthouse, the harbor lay
before them blue and sparkling in the morning sunshine, and as full of
boats as a raisin pie of raisins. Even Tom, eminently matter of fact,
drew his breath as the _Vagabond_ dashed across the harbor mouth.
Marblehead Harbor is naturally one of the most beautiful on the coast,
and this morning, thronged with yachts of all descriptions, swinging at
their moorings, cream-white sails aflutter in the light breeze, flags
flying everywhere, paint and varnish glistening and brasswork catching
the sunlight on every side, it presented as fair a sight as one is apt
to find. Between the white and black and mahogany-red hulls of the
yachts busy, cheerful, impertinent launches darted in and out, filling
the air with the sharp explosions of their engines.
On one side the quaint old town came tumbling down to the wharves and
the dripping seawall, a delightful hodgepodge of weather-stained sheds
and whitewashed houses. On the other, green lawns set with summer
cottages and shaded by vividly green elms stretched from the distant
causeway to where the shore broke into a rocky promontory, from which
the stone and shingle house of the Corinthian Yacht Club arose as though
a part of the natural scenery.
"By Jove!" said Nelson. "It doesn't look as though there was room for us
anywhere."
And it didn't, so closely were the boats packed together. Nelson stopped
down the engine to half speed, and, with her bunting flapping in the
breeze and her bright-work agleam, the _Vagabond_ nosed her way through
the throng until she was opposite the Boston Yacht Club House. Here a
space large enough to swing around in was discovered, and as Bob
skillfully turned her toward it Dan held the anchor ready. Then there
was a splash, and an excited protest from the exhaust as the engine was
reversed; then silence, and the _Vagabond_ had come to anchor as neatly
as you wish. After that the four gave themselves to a thorough enjoyment
of the scene.
There was plenty to look at. Near by, at one of the boat yards, the
contestants were being measured with steel tape and rule. Others were
coming in from their full-speed trials outside the harbor. Gasoline was
being taken on, tenders lashed into place, and final arrangements
generally were being made. At half-past twelve Tom cooked luncheon, and
it was eaten, for the most part, on deck, that nothing of the busy scene
around them need be lost sight of. After luncheon the boys got into the
tender and rowed to the yacht club landing, leaving the boat there and
spending over an hour in exploring the town. After that they returned to
the launch and cruised about the harbor, turning and twisting in and out
between the anchored craft. There were big steam yachts there, gasoline
cruisers galore, dozens of launches, big sloops and little ones, yawls,
catboats, and one schooner yacht. And where there was nothing else,
tenders and dories flitted about. Once Tom caught Nelson excitedly by
the arm and pointed across the harbor.
"Lu-lu-look at that, Nel!" he stuttered. "Su-su-su-see that
su-su-su-sloop coming in wi-wi-without any su-su-sails!"
"Yes; what about it?"
"Wh-wh-what about it? How the di-di-di-di-dickens does she du-du-do it?"
"Oh, there's a fellow at the stern, pushing," said Bob gravely.
"She's an auxiliary, Tommy," explained Nelson.
"Wh-what's that?" asked Tom suspiciously.
"Why, she's got a gasoline engine in her, just like we have, only hers
is probably smaller."
"Really?" Tom marveled. "I didn't know you could du-du-do that."
"Lots of them have auxiliaries nowadays. When the wind gives out, they
just start their engines and--there you are."
"Say, that's swell!" murmured Tom.
"There goes the committee boat!" said Dan excitedly. "Let's follow her."
The committee boat was a handsome sailing packet, and as she moved out
to where the start was to be made she presented a fine picture. The
_Vagabond_, together with fully half the craft in the harbor, followed
at her heels. She took up her position close to the black spar buoy at
the harbor entrance, and one by one the contestants chugged up to her
and clamored for their ratings. As there had been delay in figuring the
handicaps and time allowances, it was announced that the start would be
postponed until half-past six. But the time didn't drag. The entries for
the race were all together for the first time, and the audience afloat
and ashore examined them with interest and compared them, and predicted
victory for first one and then another. The twelve boats varied in
length from forty feet, the measurement of the _Sizz_ and the _Gnome_,
down to thirty-one, which was the length of the _Shoonah_. But the
greatest difference was in horse-power. The _Gnome_ and the _Amy_ were
rated at thirty, while the little _Sue_ had but nine. As a result, the
_Sue_ had a handicap allowance of about thirteen hours over the _Gnome_,
which was scratch boat. One by one the boats got their directions,
handicaps, and paid their measurement fees, and stood away to await the
starting signal.
"Let's follow them a bit," suggested Tom. "It would be great sport,
wouldn't it?"
"Great!" cried Dan. "Let's do it, Nel! What do you say?"
"I'm game if you are," was the answer. "You want to remember, though,
Tommy, that we'll be late to dinner."
"Oh, you run away and play! To hear you fellows talk, you'd think nobody
ate anything but me. I'd just like to know who got away with the most of
the lunch--and I'm not looking at Bob, either!"
"'Not you, kittie, nor me, kittie, but one of us,'" murmured Nelson.
"What time will we get back?" asked Bob.
"Depends on how far we go," said Nelson. "We'd ought to get back before
dark, I suppose."
"Oh, it doesn't get dark until late," said Dan cheerfully.
"I tell you what we'll do," cried Tom. "I'll cook something and we'll
have dinner on board! What do you say?"
"Well, we've never eaten one of your dinners, Tommy," answered Dan, "and
so we may, I think, be excused if we say nothing; least said soonest
mended, you know."
"Have we got anything to cook, Tommy?" asked Nelson doubtfully.
"Eggs, bacon, beans, tomatoes, potatoes, jam, bread----"
_Boom!_
"First gun!" cried Bob.
"There's a quarter of an hour yet, then," said Dan.
"Let's get our lanterns lighted," suggested Nelson. "We might as well do
it now as later. The others are lighting theirs."
So for the next few minutes they attended to the lights, saw to the
lashings of the tender, filled oil cups, and prepared to join in the
scramble across the starting line. At six-twenty a second gun was fired
from the committee boat, and at six-twenty-five a third. By that time
all the contestants were chugging and churning into positions from which
they could make quick starts. Everyone had his eyes glued to watch or
clock, and as the minutes passed the excitement grew intense. The crew
of the _Vagabond_ felt as though they, too, were off for a wild race to
New York, and Dan was for rounding outside the committee boat so that
they wouldn't get left. But Nelson shook his head.
"We'll stay here and get over the line after the last one. Then we'll
see if we can't give some of them a tussle for a few miles."
"Hey! Look at the _Amy_!" cried Bob.
All boats were in motion now, and were dashing toward the open water
between the committee boat and the black spar. The _Amy_ had started a
bit too soon, and now, having almost reached the line, she turned and
ran parallel with it until, when almost at the end of it and it seemed
as though she must head back again, the last gun went off, and with a
quick turn of her wheel she swung her nose to port and dashed across the
line several lengths in the lead. Then the others went over, their
propellers churning the water, flags flying, and exhausts throbbing
loudly. Whistles blew and sirens shrieked, caps were waved and flags
were dipped, and the twelve plucky little boats headed for the blue-gray
rim of the horizon on their all-night voyage.
"All right!" sang Bob from the wheel, and Nelson, hand on the lever,
shot it forward and the _Vagabond_ started after the other craft with a
rush that took her across the line the first of the noncontestants. In
their endeavor to cut the corner as much as possible, several of the
launches got too near the Point, and for a moment it looked as though
the race was already over for some of them. But after a breathless
minute all got safely away and passed out between the Point and
Marblehead Rock. The sun was nearing the hills in the west and a crimson
flush lay over the quiet sea and dyed the sails of the yachts. Back of
them the whistles still tooted as the crew of the _Vagabond_ stood in
the cockpit and watched the contest with breathless interest.
The Point fell farther and farther away and grew indistinct in the
sunlit haze. The racers had formed into two broken lines, the _Amy_
still holding the lead, with the _Scrapper_ and the _Gnome_ striving to
nose her out of it. Suddenly the sun went down, throwing a last intense
ray across the water, and the blue twilight descended. The lantern at
the top of the lighthouse on Baker's Island bade good night to the
speeding boats, and wished them safe voyage. The whistling had long
since ceased, and nothing was to be heard now aboard the _Vagabond_ but
the chugging of the boats ahead and an occasional hail from some one of
the following craft. The _Vagabond_ was by no means the only boat in
pursuit. Launches little and big were trying to keep up in order to get
a last view of the contest. But one by one they dropped astern, turned
and headed homeward. The twilight deepened, but the boys on the
_Vagabond_ paid little heed, for they had passed two of the racers, and
were gaining on a third.
"Say, maybe we're not going some!" cried Tom delightedly.
"Twelve miles and over," answered Nelson with satisfaction.
"Bet you we'll pass that one there inside of five minutes," crowed Tom.
"Gee! I wish we were in the race!"
"Looks as though we were," said Bob with a smile. "There's the _Sue_
ahead there. She's going along in great shape, isn't she? If she wasn't
so small, I'd be willing to bet she'd win out."
"Wouldn't be surprised," answered Nelson. "She's got a whole lot of
handicap allowance to help. And even if she is small, she's certainly
keeping her end up with some of the others. How about that dinner you
were going to cook, Tommy?"
"Just wait till we pass the next one," begged Tom excitedly. "I love to
see the way the fellows look at us when we go by."
"They're probably wondering what we're butting in for," said Nelson
laughingly. "I'd rather like to know myself!"
"Just to show them what a real boat looks like," suggested Bob. "Could
we keep up this pace all the way?"
Nelson shook his head.
"Maybe, but I wouldn't like to try. We'd probably overheat something,
and get in a fix. No; if we were going clear through with the bunch, I'd
stop her down to about eight or nine miles and see what would happen."
"Let's do it!" cried Dan.
The others looked expectantly at Nelson. He shook his head again.
"It wouldn't be safe, fellows," he answered. "It's all right now, but we
might meet a whole lot of nasty water outside the Cape."
"What Cape?" asked Tom.
"Cape Cod."
"Oh! do we have to go by there?" he asked in surprise. Whereupon there
was a laugh at Tom's knowledge of geography.
They were pulling abreast of the next launch now, and her red side-light
shone brightly through the gathering dusk.
"Now, Tommy, you can start your fire," said Dan. "We're up to them and
passing. Hello! that chap's going to hail us."
"Hello, the launch!" came a voice through a megaphone.
Nelson picked up his own megaphone and answered the hail.
"Are you in this?" was the demand.
"No; we're just following!"
"Oh! Are you going back to Marblehead tonight?"
"Don't think so," answered Nelson. "We'll probably try for Boston."
"I see! Much obliged! Goodnight!"
"Good night," called Nelson, "and good luck!"
The other nodded and laid aside his megaphone. Then the _Vagabond_ went
ahead. It was too dark to read the name of the other boat, although Dan
said he thought she was the _Sizz_.
"Did you mean that, about going to Boston?" asked Bob.
"Yes," answered Nelson. "We might as well, because we'll be nearer
Boston than Marblehead by this time."
"How far have we come?" asked Dan.
"About"--Nelson looked at his watch and whistled softly--"about fourteen
miles, I think. And if we're going back, we'd better be doing it. Our
best port would be Hull, but I don't like to look for it after dark.
Come to think of it, I don't know that I want to fuss around Boston
Harbor at this time of night. Maybe, after all, we'd better put back to
Marblehead or Lynn. Where's that chart, Bob?"
It was found and spread out on the cabin roof. Tom held the lantern and
Nelson and Bob studied it for a moment.
"I think the best thing to do," said Bob finally, "is to keep on for
Cohasset. It isn't much farther, and looks like an easy harbor."
"I guess you're right," Nelson replied. "Yes, that's the best thing to
do. Then we want to swing in now or we'll never get there until about
ten o'clock. There's Minot's Light over there. Make for that, Bob."
"All right!" Bob turned the wheel and the _Vagabond_ swung to starboard
and crossed ahead of the launch which had hailed them. Beyond, in the
darkness, the lights of the other racers gleamed and swung as the boats
tossed slowly in the long seas. As they passed the _Sizz_--if it was the
_Sizz_--a cheery "good night" reached them, and the four answered it. A
few minutes later they were all alone, and the lights of the racers,
headed for Highland Light, showed but dimly across the dark waters. Tom
sighed.
"Seems kind of lonesome, doesn't it?" he asked, with a glance at the
surrounding gloom. He shivered as he looked.
"You go down and get that dinner you talked so much about," said Bob.
"I'm starving to death."
"All right," replied Tom uneasily. "But if anything happens----"
"We'll call on you for advice, Tommy," finished Dan. "Get a move on,
now; and when you make the coffee, don't forget the coffee."
So Tom descended, rather mournfully, lighted the lanterns in the engine
room and cabin, and set about his task.
The _Vagabond_ was a good twelve miles away from Cohasset, and that
meant a full hour and a half's run, for Nelson had slowed down the
boat's speed to eight miles. He began to wish that he hadn't gone so
far. To be sure, the _Vagabond_ was the stanchest sort of a craft, and
the weather was of the calmest; also there were no dangerous rocks nor
bars between them and the harbor. But it was awfully dark and rather
cold, and there was a whole lot of water around them. For a moment he
wished that he had kept company with the racers until the Cape was
reached; then he could have put in to Provincetown. But after a moment,
when the odor of Tom's coffee stole up on deck, the qualm of uneasiness
passed. He took his place beside Bob, who, at the wheel, was staring
intently ahead into the night.
"Can't see much, can you?" asked Bob. "I suppose most of the sailing
craft carry lights, don't they?"
"All of them," answered Nelson. "Keep on; you're all right. There isn't
a rock between here and Minot's Ledge. Let me take the wheel awhile; you
go down and get something warmer on."
"I guess I will; I hadn't realized that it was so cold."
Bob had just reached the lowest step, when he turned and thrust his head
out again with a shout to Nelson. But Nelson had already called Dan to
take the wheel, and was hurrying down. The engine had stopped!