Chapter XXIII · THE RACE OF THE SLOOPS

“This is as fine a breeze as anybody would want,” declared Pepper, as the Alice went out to take her position for the race.

“There is Mr. Ford’s yacht,” came from Andy. “The girls are on board and so are Mr. and Mrs. Ford and some others.”

“I’ll sail past them,” said Jack, and did so. All aboard the rich man’s craft waved their handkerchiefs at the cadets.

“I hope you win!” shouted Laura.

“So do I!” added Flossie.

“We’ll do our best!” answered the young major, and then sailed out of hearing distance.

The Ajax was already on hand and in a few minutes more the Neptune hove in sight. Both of the boats were in the pink of condition and caused a murmur of admiration as they moved majestically down to the starting position.

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“I can tell yez wan thing,” said Hogan, who was in a small boat with several others. “Jack has his work cut out for him this day, so he has!”

“Yes, the other boats will surely give him a hard push for first place,” returned Bart Conners.

“Oh, the Alice has got to win!” cried Harry Blossom, enthusiastically.

The lake front was lined with spectators and the water was alive with rowboats, motor boats and sailing craft of various sorts. Captain Putnam had hired a good-sized motor boat for the use of himself, Mr. Strong, and a dozen guests; Doctor Pornell had a small steamer, and the immediate friends of Bob Anderson of the Neptune were out in force in a yacht that was a mass of bunting from end to end. Flags were everywhere, and the scene, as the sloops lined up for the start, could not have been more animated.

The last directions were given by the judges, and the three sloops commenced to maneuver for position. Then a cannon was discharged, and over the line shot the Alice, the Ajax and the Neptune; and the great boat race was on.

A shout went up, lasting fully a minute. Then the assembled multitude settled down to watch the struggle with keen interest.

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The breeze was what might be termed a smart one, and each sloop had every sail out to its fullest. Each bow cut the water like a thing of life, sending a fine spray over the deck. For the occasion everybody aboard the three boats was dressed in a suit of white duck, with white duck hat.

The triangular course had been laid out to suit the wind. Scarcely had the first half mile been covered when the wind shifted slightly, sending the three boats directly forward to the end of the first leg of the race. All were making splendid time, and when the first half of the leg was finished they were practically abreast of each other.

“The Ajax isn’t capsizing to-day,” remarked Pepper, as they bowled merrily along. “Fred Century must have put some extra lead in her keel.”

“I think he is handling her better,” answered Jack. “He has had plenty of practice since the day she capsized.”

“Anderson certainly knows how to handle the Neptune,” said Andy. “He brought her around too neat for anything at the start.”

“Somebody told me he was the best sailor on Cayuga Lake,” said Dale. “To my mind, we have more to fear from the Neptune than we have from the Ajax.”

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“Humph! Just now it looks like a tie race all around,” murmured Stuffer. Even the excitement of the race could not make him forget his longing for something to eat, and he was munching on some peanuts he had brought along.

On and on rushed the three sloops, until the end of the first leg of the triangular course was in sight. The Neptune was now slightly in advance, with the Alice and the Ajax close on her heels.

“The Neptune is ahead!” was the cry. “She is rounding the stake boat of the first leg!”

“The Alice and the Ajax are a tie!”

“No, the Ajax is ahead—she is rounding inside of the Alice!”

So the cries ran on. In the meantime the Neptune started on the second leg of the race, with the Ajax fifty yards to the rear. As said, the Ajax had rounded inside of the Alice, thus giving her not a little advantage over the Putnam Hall craft.

“Too bad!” groaned Dale.

“I think Fred Century cut you pretty close,” observed Pepper to Jack.

“He did, and if he does it again I’ll ram our bow into him,” answered the young skipper.

As the wind had shifted, all of the craft had to do considerable tacking on the second leg of the course. Bob Anderson was certainly a master at this and drew steadily to the front. Fred Century kept second place, with Jack not more than fifty yards behind him.

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Presently the wind appeared to grow “choppy,” that is, it came and went in gusts. This did not appear to suit the Neptune, and soon that craft fell back. In the meantime, as if by magic, the Ajax increased her speed and forged to the front. At this came a wild cheering from the supporters of Pornell Academy, and the steamer engaged by Doctor Pornell blew her whistle loudly.

“It’s nip and tuck between the Neptune and the Ajax,” said some on shore. “The Alice doesn’t seem to be in it.”

“Queer, too,” said one man. “I thought she looked as good as any of them.”

“Jack, do you think Reff Ritter put some kind of a drag on us after all?” asked Pepper anxiously.

“No,” was the prompt answer.

“Then why are we falling behind?”

“Fortunes of war I suppose,” and the young major heaved a deep sigh.

“We have got to win!” shouted Andy.

“If we can,” said Jack. “I think we’ll stand a chance on the last leg—if the wind doesn’t shift again.”

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The shifting wind had ruffed up the lake bosom not a little, and ever and anon the water dashed over the bow of the Alice, wetting every cadet on board. But the youths paid little attention to this—they were willing to be soaked a dozen times over if only they might win the race.

“More wind coming, I think,” said Stuffer, pointing to some clouds that were piling up.

“I hope it does come,” cried Jack. “The Alice is a boat for a good, stiff blow.”

When the end of the second leg was reached the Ajax rounded the stakeboat first. The Neptune followed at a distance of a hundred yards. The Alice was now a good eighth of a mile behind.

“Can’t we do something to catch up, Jack?” asked Pepper. To stand still and see the other boats go ahead was maddening.

“Yes,” was the young skipper’s sudden reply. “Stand by to shift the mainsail.”

All sprang to obey his order—for to do anything was better than to do nothing. Jack had his eyes on a spot ahead on the surface of the lake. He was watching the water very intently and at the same time speculating on the clouds that were piling up to the westward.

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A moment later he gave the order to shift the sail. Over it went with a crack, and the Alice’s rudder came around like lightning. The craft quickly veered, leaving the course taken by the two sloops ahead.

“Why, you are out of the course!” shouted Andy. “Oh, Jack, this won’t do at all!”

“We’ll lose ground,” added Stuffer. “Oh, Jack, you’re going wrong!” And in his excitement he threw several peanut kernels overboard and stuffed the shells in his mouth.

“A soft spot ahead—I am going to keep out of it,” was the young skipper’s answer, and he nodded to show what he meant. “They are in it, thank goodness!” he muttered, a minute later.

Then the others understood—and rejoiced. The Ajax had run into a “soft spot,” so called by sailors—that is, a place where the wind had died away. The Neptune followed, and the sails of both craft flapped idly against the masts. The Alice went wide of the “soft spot,” and though she felt something of the decrease in the wind, yet Jack managed to keep her sails filled and slowly but surely came up on a reach and overlapped the Neptune. Then she forged ahead after the Ajax.

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The excitement was now intense, for only a mile and a half of the race remained to be sailed. The Ajax crawled or rather drifted out of the “soft spot,” and then came forward with a rush. The wind clouds now made themselves felt, especially on board the Alice. Jack’s face lost its look of worry.

“This is what we want!” he cried.

For half a mile it was now nip and tuck between the Ajax and the Alice. But then the wind increased so swiftly that Fred Century had to lower his topsail. With all sails set the Alice drew ahead, racing through the water like a thing of life.

“The Alice wins! The Alice wins!” was the cry, and this proved correct, for six minutes later the Putnam Hall sloop came over the line the winner by an eighth of a mile. The Ajax beat the Neptune by less than a hundred yards.

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