The at the Seashore Part 5 (1/2)
”Well, we'll have ours here as soon as it's towed over from Bay City. And we want to challenge you to a regular yacht race. I asked Miss Turner if we might, and she said yes.”
”I think that would be fine sport,” said Eleanor. ”Dolly Ransom is skipper of our sloop. Suppose you talk it over with her.”
”I think it would be fine, Marcia!” said Dolly, with s.h.i.+ning eyes. ”I was just wis.h.i.+ng for a race this morning. When shall we have it?”
”Why not this afternoon?” asked Marcia. ”We could race out to the lighthouse on the rock out there and back. That's not very far, but it's far enough to make a good race, I should think.”
”Splendid!” said Dolly. ”What sort of a boat is yours?”
”Just the same as yours, I think. We can see when they come, and if one is bigger than the other, we can arrange about a handicap. Miss Turner said she thought she ought to be in one boat, and Miss Mercer in the other.”
”Yes, I think so, too. And I'll be skipper of our boat, and have Bessie King and Margery Burton for a crew. Who is your skipper?”
”Gladys Cooper,” answered Marcia, after a slight pause.
”Bully for her! Just you tell her I'm going to beat her so badly she won't even know she's in a race.”
Marcia laughed.
”All right,” she said. ”I'll let you know when we're ready.”
”Now, then, Bessie,” said Dolly, ”just you come out with me to the sloop in that skiff, and I'll show you just what you'll have to do. It won't be hard--you'll only have to obey orders. But you'd better know the names of the ropes, so that you'll understand my orders when I give them.”
So for an hour Bessie, delighted with the appearance of the trim little sloop, took lessons from Dolly in the art of handling small sailing craft.
”You'll get along all right,” said Dolly, as they pulled back to the beach. ”Don't get excited. That's the only thing to remember. We'll wear our bathing suits, of course, so that if we get spilled into the water, there'll be no harm done.”
”We've got a good chance of being spilled, too,” said Margery. ”I know how Dolly likes to sail a boat. So if you don't want a ducking, you'd better make her take someone else in your place.”
”I wouldn't miss it for anything,” said Bessie, happily. ”I've never even seen a yacht race. I bet it must be lots of fun.”
”It won't be rough, anyhow,” said Eleanor, after they had landed. She looked out to sea. ”It's pretty hazy out there, Dolly. Think there'll be enough wind?”
”Oh, yes,” said Dolly. ”Plenty! It won't be stiff, of course, and we won't make good time, but that doesn't make any difference. It's as good for them as for us--and the other way round.”
CHAPTER VIII.
THE RACE.
The sloop that was to represent the Halsted Camp Fire in the race arrived in the cove late in the morning, and from the sh.o.r.e there seemed to be no difference in size between the two little craft. They were different, and one might prove swifter than the other, for no two boats of that sort were ever exactly alike. But so far as could be judged, the race was likely to be a test rather of how the boats were sailed than of their speed, boat for boat.
”I think you can sail on even terms, Dolly,” said Eleanor. ”I don't believe there'll be any need for either of you to give away any time to the other.”
”I'm glad of that, Miss Eleanor,” said Dolly. ”It seems much nicer when you're exactly even at the start.”
”Here's Miss Turner now,” said Bessie. ”I guess they must be about ready to start. I hope I'll do the right thing when you tell me, Dolly, but I'm dreadfully afraid I won't.”
”Don't worry about it, and you'll be much more likely to get along well,” said Margery Burton, calmly. ”And remember that this race isn't the most important thing in the world, even if Dolly thinks it is.”
”Oh, it's all right for you to talk that way now,” said Dolly. ”But wait till we're racing, Bessie. You'll find she's just as much worked up about it then as I am--and probably more so.”
”Well, all ready, Nell?” asked Mary Turner, coming up to them then. ”Gladys seems to think she's about ready to start, so I thought I'd walk over and arrange about the details.”
”I think the best way to fix up the start will be for the two sloops to reach the opening in the bar together,” said Eleanor. ”They can start there and finish there, you see, and that will save the need of having someone to take the time. We really haven't anyone who can do that properly. If we're close together at the start you and I can call to one another and agree upon the moment when the race has actually begun.”
”All right,” said Miss Turner. ”I'd thought of that myself.” She lowered her voice. ”I didn't like to oppose this race, Nell,” she said, speaking so that only Eleanor could hear her, ”but I'm not at all sure that it's going to be a good thing.”
”Why not? I thought it would be good sport.”
”It ought to be, but I don't know how good a sportsman Gladys is. If she wins, it will probably make her feel a lot better. But if she loses--!”
”I hadn't thought of that side of it,” said Eleanor. ”But--oh, well, even so, I think it will probably be a good thing. Gladys has got a lot of hard lessons to learn, and if this is one of them, the sooner she learns it, the better. You and I will be along to see fair play. That will keep her from having anything to say if she does lose, you see.”
”We're in for it, anyhow, so I didn't mean to have you worry about it. I think anything that I might have done to stop the race would have done more harm than the race itself can possibly do, in any case.”
”I'm quite sure of that, Mary. Well, we'll get aboard our yacht and you'd better do the same. They're probably waiting impatiently for you.”
The flat-bottomed skiff that Bessie had despised proved handy for carrying the Eleanor's crew out to her. While the others climbed aboard, Dolly, who insisted upon attending to everything herself, when she possibly could, arranged a floating anchor that would keep the boat in place against their return, and a few moments later the Eleanor's snowy sails rose, flapping idly in the faint breeze.
”Get up that anchor!” directed Dolly. ”Bessie, you help Margery. She'll show you what to do.”
Then a s.h.i.+ver shook the little craft, the wind filled the sails, and in a few moments they were creeping slowly toward the opening in the bar. Seated at the helm, Dolly looked over toward the other camp and saw that the other yacht was also under weigh.
”What do they call their boat?” she asked.
”The Defiance,” said Eleanor.
Dolly laughed at the answer.
”I bet I know who named her!” she said, merrily. ”If that isn't just like Gladys Cooper! Well, I want a good race, and I can have just as much fun if we're beaten, as long as I can feel that I haven't made any mistakes in sailing the Eleanor. But--well, I guess I would like to beat Gladys. I bet she's awfully sure of winning!”
”She's had more experience in sailing boats like these than you have, Dolly,” said Eleanor.
”She's welcome to it,” said Dolly. ”I shan't make any excuses if I lose. I'll be ready to admit that she's better than I am.”
The two boats converged together upon the opening in the bar, and soon those on one could see everything aboard the other. Gladys Cooper, like Dolly, sat at the helm, steering her boat, and a look of grim determination was in her eyes and on her unsmiling face.
”She certainly does want to win,” said Margery. ”She's taking this too seriously--score one for Dolly.”
”You think she'd do better if she weren't so worked up, Margery?”
”Of course she would! There are just two ways to take a race or a sporting contest of any sort--as a game or as a bit of serious work. If you do the very best you can and forget about winning, you'll win a good deal oftener than you lose, if your best is any good at all. It's that way in football. I've heard boys say that when they have played against certain teams, they've known right after the start that they were going to win, because the other team's players would lose their tempers the first time anything went wrong.”
”We seem to be on even terms now,” said Eleanor, and, cupping her hands, she hailed Mary Turner. ”All ready? We might as well call this a start.”
”All right,” said Mary. ”Shall I give the word?”