CHAPTER 25 THE RACE

A mid-afternoon sun beat down upon the wharves as a group of sailboats tacked slowly toward the starting line for the annual Hat Island trophy race. The shores were lined with spectators, and from the clubhouse where a band played, music carried over the water.

At the tiller of the Cat’s Paw, Penny, in white blouse and slacks, hair bound tightly to keep it from blowing, sat nervous and tense. Sally, lounging on a cushion in the bow, seemed thoroughly relaxed. Though her arms remained in bandages, otherwise she had completely recovered from her unpleasant experience.

“Isn’t the wind dying?” Penny asked anxiously. “Oh, Sally, I was hoping we’d have a good stiff breeze for the race! Handicapped as we are—”

“We’re not handicapped,” Sally corrected. “Of course, I can’t handle the ropes or do much to help, but we have a wonderful boat that will prove more than a match for Jack’s Spindrift.”

“You’re only saying that to give me confidence.”

“No, I’m not,” Sally denied, turning to study the group of racing boats. “We’ll win the trophy! Just wait and see.”

“If we do, it will be because of your brain and my brawn,” Penny chuckled. “I’ll admit I’m scared silly. I never was in an important race before.”

Conversation ceased, for the boats now were bunching close to the starting line, maneuvering for position. Jack drifted by in the Spindrift, raising his hand in friendly greeting. As he passed, he actually glanced anxiously toward Sally, as if worried lest the girl overtax herself.

“I hope he doesn’t try to throw the race just to be gallant,” Penny thought. “But I don’t believe he will, for then the victory would be a hollow one.”

The change apparent in Jack so amazed Penny that she had to pinch herself to realize it was true. Since the night of the fire, he had visited Sally every day. In a brief span of hours, he had grown from a selfish, arrogant youth into a steady, dependable man. And it now was evident to everyone that he liked Sally in more than a friendly way.

“Better come about now, Penny,” Sally broke in upon her thoughts. “Head for the starting line. The signal should be given any minute now.”

The boats started in a close, tight group. Jack was over the line first, but with Cat’s Paw directly behind.

In the first leg of the race, the two boats kept fairly even, with the others lagging. As the initial marker was rounded, there was a noticeable fall-off in the wind.

“It’s going to be a drifting race,” Sally confirmed, raising troubled eyes to the wrinkled sail. “We’re barely drawing now and Jack’s boat has the edge in a calm.”

The Spindrift skimmed merrily along, now in the lead by many yards. Though Penny held the tiller delicately, taking advantage of every breath of wind, the distance between the two boats rapidly increased.

“We’re out of it,” she sighed. “We can’t hope to overtake Jack now.”

Sally nodded gloomily. Shading her eyes against the glare of the sun, she gazed across the river, studying the triangular course. Far off-shore, well beyond the line the Spindrift and their own boat was taking, the surface of the water appeared rippled. Ahead of them there was only a smooth surface.

“Penny,” she said quietly. “I believe there’s more breeze out there.”

Penny nodded and headed the Cat’s Paw on the longer course out into the river. To many spectators ashore it appeared that the girls deliberately had abandoned the race, but aboard the River Queen, Captain Barker grinned proudly at his guests, Mr. Parker, and Mr. and Mrs. Gandiss.

“Those gals are using their heads!” he praised. “Well, Mr. Gandiss, it looks as if the Barkers will keep the trophy another year!”

“The race isn’t over yet,” Mr. Gandiss rumbled goodnaturedly.

Aboard the Cat’s Paw, Penny and Sally were none too jubilant. Although sails curved with wind and they were footing much faster than the other boats, the course they had chosen would force them to sail a much longer distance. Could they cross the finish line ahead of the Spindrift?

“Shouldn’t we turn now?” Penny asked impatiently. “Jack’s so much closer than we.”

“Not yet,” Sally said calmly. “We must make it in one long tack. He will be forced to make several. That’s our only chance. If we misjudge the distance, we’re sunk.”

Tensely, they watched the moving line of boats close along shore. The Spindrift seemed almost at the finish line, though her sails barely were drawing and she moved through the water at a snail’s pace.

Again Penny glanced anxiously at her companion.

“Now!” Sally gave the signal.

Instantly Penny swung the Cat’s Paw onto the homeward tack. Every inch of her sails drawing, she swept toward the finish line.

“We’re so much farther away than the Spindrift,” Penny groaned, crouching low so that her body would not deflect the wind. “Oh, Sally, will we make it?”

“Can’t tell yet. It will be nip and tuck. But if we can keep this breeze—”

The wind held, and the Cat’s Paw, sailing to windward of the finish line, moved along faster and faster. On the other hand, the Spindrift was forced to make several short tacks, losing distance each time. The boats drew even.

Suddenly Sally relaxed, and slumped down on the cushions.

“Just hold the old girl steady on her course,” she grinned. “That brass lantern is the same as ours!”

“Then we’ll win?”

“We can’t lose now unless some disaster should overtake us.”

Even as Sally spoke, boat whistles began to toot. Sailing experts nodded their heads in a pleased way, for it was a race to their liking.

A minute later, sweeping in like a house afire, the Cat’s Paw crossed the finish line well in advance of the Spindrift. Jack’s boat placed second with other craft far behind.

Friendly hands assisted the girls ashore where they were spirited away to the clubhouse for rest and refreshments. As everyone crowded about to congratulate them upon victory, Jack joined the throng.

“It was a dandy race,” he said with sincerity. “I tried hard to win, but you outsmarted me.”

“Why, Jack!” teased Sally. “Imagine admitting a thing like that!”

“Now don’t try to rub it in,” he pleaded. “I know I’ve been an awful heel. You probably won’t believe me, but I’m sorry about the way I acted—”

“For goodness sakes, don’t apologize,” Sally cut him short. “I enjoyed every one of those squabbles we had. I hope we have a lot more of them.”

“We probably will,” Jack warned, “because I expect to be underfoot quite a bit of the time.”

Later in the afternoon, the brass lantern which had been turned over to the club by the police, was formally presented to Sally. She was warned however, that the trophy would have to be returned later for use in court as evidence against Adam Glowershick.

The nicest surprise of all was yet to come. Captain Barker was requested by a committee chairman to kindly step forward into full view of the spectators.

“Now what’s this?” he rumbled, edging away.

But he could not escape. Speaking into a loudspeaker, the committee chairman informed the captain and delighted spectators, that in appreciation of what he had done to save the waterfront, a thousand dollar purse had been raised. Mr. Gandiss, whose factory certainly would have faced destruction had wharves caught fire, had contributed half the sum himself.

“Why, beaching the Florence was nothing,” the captain protested, deeply embarrassed. “I can repair the damage done to the Queen with less than a hundred dollars.”

“The money is yours, and you must keep it,” he was told. “You must have a use for it.”

“I have that,” Captain Barker admitted, winking at his daughter. “There’s a certain young lady of my acquaintance who has been hankerin’ to go away to college.”

“Oh, Pop.” Sally’s eyes danced. “How wonderful! I know where I want to go too!”

“So you’ve been studying the school catalogues?” her father teased.

Sally shook her head. Reaching for Penny’s hand, she drew her close.

“I don’t need a catalogue,” she laughed. “I only know I’m scheduled for the same place Penny selects! She’s been my good luck star, and I’ll set my future course by her!”