"I have explained the reason why I spoke of this matter at all, Ned. It is bread and b.u.t.ter to me, and I hope you don't think I am vain."

Ned was a little vexed at the remarks of his friend, and rather indignant at his a.s.sumed superiority as a boatman. Donald was usually very modest and unpretentious. He was not in the habit of claiming that he could do anything better than another. Generally, in boating matters, when he saw that a thing was done wrong, he refrained from criticising unless his opinion was asked, and was far from being forward in fault-finding. Though he was an authority among the young men in sailing boats, he had not attained this distinction by being a critic and caviller. Ned was therefore surprised, as well as indignant, at the comments and the a.s.sumption of Donald; but a little reflection enabled him to see the boat-builder's motive, which was anything but vanity. He had some of this weakness himself, and felt that he had sailed the Sea Foam as well as any one could have done it, and was satisfied that the Skylark was really a faster yacht than his own. The race was plain sailing, with a free wind nearly all the way, and there was not much room for the exercise of superior skill in handling the craft. At least, this was Ned's opinion. If the course had been a dead beat to windward for ten miles, the case would have been different; and Ned had failed to notice that he had lost half the distance between the Skylark and the Sea Foam when he rounded the stake buoy.

It was a fact that among the large party on board the Pen.o.bscot, the boats of the firm of Ramsay and Son were just then at a discount, and those of the Newport builders at a corresponding premium. Donald was grieved and vexed, and trembled for the future of the firm of which he was the active representative. But he figured up the results of the race, and when the captains of all the yachts had come on board of the judges' boat, he announced the prizes and delivered them to the winners, with a little speech. The silver vase was given to the commodore, with liberal and magnanimous commendations both of the yacht and her captain.

The marine gla.s.s was presented to Edward Patterdale, as the winner of the second prize, with some pleasant words, which did not in the least betray the personal discomfiture of the chairman. There was a further ceremony on the quarter-deck of the Pen.o.bscot, which was not in the programme, and which was unexpected to all except the officers of the club.

"Captain Laud Cavendish, of the Juno," said the chairman of the judges, who stood on the trunk of the yacht, where all on board, as well as those in the boats collected around her, could see him.

Laud stepped forward, wondering what the call could mean.

"I find, after figuring up the results of the race," continued the chairman, glancing at the schedule he held in his hand, "that you are ent.i.tled to the third and last prize. By carefully timing the movements of your excellent craft, and by your superior skill in sailing her, you have contrived to come in--last in the race; and the officers of the club have instructed the judges to award this medal to you. I have the honor and the very great pleasure of suspending it around your neck."

The medal was made of sole leather, about six inches in diameter.

Attached to it was a yard of stove-pipe chain, by which it was hung around the neck of the winner of the _last_ prize. A shout of laughter and a round of applause greeted the presentation of the medal. Laud did not know whether to smile or get mad; for he felt like the victim of a practical joke. Miss Nellie Patterdale stood near him, and perhaps her presence restrained an outburst of anger. Mr. Montague, the father of the commodore, had provided a bountiful collation in the cabin of the Pen.o.bscot, and the next half hour was given up to the discussion of the repast. Laud tried to make himself agreeable to Nellie, and the poor girl was persecuted by his attentions until she was obliged to break away from him.

"Don John, I am told that everybody is satisfied with this race except you," said Commodore Montague, as the party went on deck after the collation.

"I am satisfied with it," replied Donald. "Everything has been perfectly fair, and the Skylark has beaten the Sea Foam."

"But you still think the Sea Foam can outsail the Skylark?"

"I think so; but of course I may be mistaken."

"You believe that Ned Patterdale didn't get all her speed out of the Sea Foam," added the commodore.

"I don't mean to say a word to disparage Ned; but he don't know the Sea Foam as you do the Skylark."

"There is hardly a particle of difference between the boats."

"I know it; but you have had so much more experience than Ned, that he ought not to be expected to compete with you. If you will exchange boats, and you do your best in the Sea Foam, I believe you would beat your own yacht. I think Ned does first rate for the experience he has had."

"So do I; but I believe the difference is in the sailing of the boats; for you may build two yachts as near alike as possible, and one of them will do better than the other," said Robert Montague.

"I should like to have you sail the Sea Foam against the Skylark, Bob,"

added Donald.

"You don't want me to beat my own boat, if I can--do you, Don John?"

laughed Robert.

"I think you could."

"I'll tell you what I'll do: I'll sail the Skylark against the Sea Foam this afternoon, and you shall handle Ned's yacht. I have been talking with him about it, and he agrees to it."

"I'm willing, Bob," replied Donald, eagerly.

"All right."

"I hope Ned don't think hard of me for speaking of this matter," added Donald. "I wouldn't have uttered a word if this result did not affect our business."

"I understand it, Don John; and so does Ned. But I think you are making a mistake; for if the Sea Foam is beaten again by the Skylark,--as I believe she will be,--it will be all the worse for your firm," laughed Robert.

"I am willing to run the risk," replied Donald. "If we can't build a boat as fast as the Skylark, I want to know it."

"But, Don John, you don't expect me to _let_ you beat me--do you?"

"Certainly not, Bob. I hope you will do your very best, and I shall be satisfied with the result."

It was soon reported over the Pen.o.bscot that another race was to be sailed immediately, and the report created intense excitement when the circ.u.mstances of the affair were explained. Judges were appointed, and other arrangements concluded. Donald and Ned Patterdale went on board of the Sea Foam, and Commodore Montague on board of the Skylark. The two yachts anch.o.r.ed in line, with the Skylark to windward, as she was three inches longer than the other. The start was to be made at the firing of the first gun. Donald took his place at the helm of the Sea Foam, and stationed the hands. He was a little afraid that Ned Patterdale was not as enthusiastic as he might be; for if his yacht won the race, the responsibility for the loss of the first prize in the regatta would rest upon him, and not upon his craft. It would not be so pleasant for him to know that he had failed, in any degree, as a skipper. The position of Donald, therefore, was not wholly agreeable; for he did not like to prove that his friend was deficient in skill, though the future prosperity of the firm of Ramsay and Son required him to do so.

The wind was even fresher than before, and dark clouds indicated a heavy rain before night; but Donald did not heed the weather. He stationed Ned in the standing-room to tend the jib-sheets and mind the centre-board.

Two hands were at the cable, and two more at the jib-halyards.

"Are you all ready forward?" called the skipper _pro tem._ of the Sea Foam.

"All ready," replied the hands. And Donald waited with intense interest for the gun.

Bang.

"Let go! Hoist the jib!" cried Donald.

The hands forward worked with a will. The rope was thrown into the tender, to which the end of it was made fast, and the jib, crackling and banging in the stiff breeze, now almost a gale, went up in an instant.

"Haul down the lee jib-sheet," said Donald to his companion in the standing-room. And it is but fair to say that Ned worked as briskly as the yachtmen at the bow.

The Sea Foam heeled over, as the blast struck her sails, till her rail went under; but Donald knew just what she would bear, and kept the tiller stiff in his hand. Stationing d.i.c.k Adams at the main sheet behind him, he placed the others upon the weather side. In a moment more the yacht came to her bearings, and lying well over, she flew off on her course. She had made a capital start, and the Skylark was equally fortunate in this respect. The two yachts went off abeam of each other, and for half a mile neither gained a hair upon the other. Then commenced the struggle for the victory. First the Skylark gained a few inches; then the Sea Foam made half a length, though she immediately lost it; for in these relative positions, she came under the lee of her opponent.

Again the Skylark forged ahead, and was a length in advance of the Sea Foam, when the yachts came up with Turtle Head.

"You are losing it, Don John," said Ned, apparently not much displeased at the result.

"Not yet," replied Donald. "A pull on the main sheet, d.i.c.k," added the skipper, as he put the helm down. "Give her six inches more centre-board, Ned."

"You will be on the rocks, Don John!" shouted the owner of the yacht, as the Sea Foam dashed under the stern of the Skylark, and ran in close to the sh.o.r.e.

"Don't be alarmed, Ned. Haul down the jib-sheet a little more! Steady!

Belay!" said the confident skipper.

By this manoeuvre the Sea Foam gained a position to windward of her rival; but she ran within half her breadth of beam of the dangerous rocks, and Ned expected every instant the race would end in a catastrophe. She went clear, however; for Donald knew just the depth of water at any time of tide. Both yachts were now under the lee of the island, and went along more gently than before. It was plain enough now that the Sea Foam had the advantage. Beyond the Head, and near the ledge, she was obliged to brace up to the wind, in order to leave the buoy on the port, as required by the rule. Donald kept her moving very lively, and when she had made her two tacks, she had weathered the buoy, and, rounding it, she gybed so near the ledge that the commodore could not have crawled in between him and the buoy if he had been near enough to do so. Hauling up the centre-board, and letting off the sheets, the Sea Foam went for a time before the wind.

When the Skylark had rounded the buoy, and laid her course for Turtle Head again, she was at least an eighth of a mile astern of her rival.

Donald hardly looked at her, but gazed steadfastly at the sails and the sh.o.r.e of the island. The sheets had to be hauled in little by little, as she followed the contour of the land, till at the point below Turtle Head the yacht had the wind forward of the beam. Then came the home stretch, and the skipper trimmed his sails, adjusted the centre-board, and stationed his crew as live weights with the utmost care. It was only necessary for him to hold his own in order to win the race, and he was painfully anxious for the result.

[Ill.u.s.tration: DONALD SAILING THE SEA FOAM. Page 166.]

In the Skylark the commodore saw just where he had lost his advantage, and regretted too late that he had permitted the Sea Foam to get to windward of him; but he strained every nerve to recover his position.

The wind continued to freshen, and probably both yachts would have done better with a single reef in the mainsail; but there was no time to reduce sail. As they pa.s.sed Turtle Head and came out into the open bay, the white-capped waves broke over the bows, dashing the spray from stem to stern. Neither Donald nor Robert flinched a hair, or permitted a sheet to be started.

"You'll take the mast out of her, Don John," said Ned Patterdale, wiping the salt water from his face.