Part 25 (1/2)

”Reckon he wants to see what she can stand,” whispered Jerry.

He was right. The captain, at the wheel, held the yacht up to it, and held her true.

On and on they went, the sky growing blacker and blacker as they proceeded.

Suddenly Jerry heard a crack like a pistol shot, and looking forward saw that the standing part of the bridle to the jib had parted. The seizing pulled out and away went the sheets.

The sail snapped and cracked loudly, and in a second more it carried away the club on the clew of the jib.

”There she goes!” yelled somebody.

Hardly had he uttered these words when the big sail split in half and hung flapping in the wind.

It was now utterly useless to the racing yacht.

A new sail must be set at once, but in that high wind who would bring the old sail in?

”I'll volunteer!” cried Jerry, as he sprang forward, and Harry and Frank Lee came close on his heels.

The crew hung back for a moment, and in that time Jerry reached the flying sail.

He caught one end just as an extra heavy puff of wind came on, and in a twinkle he was dragged half overboard.

But now Harry and Frank Lee sprang to the rescue, and then the regular crew came forward. All worked like beavers, and soon the torn sail was taken off.

Six minutes later a new sail was in place, and on went the gallant Defender as speedily as before.

She carried herself well, and nothing was lost in that blow but the jib.

In the meanwhile the Spray could not stand the strain and ran on behind with all sails reefed.

”A great yacht,” said those on the other boats. And the Defender stock went away up.

The captain praised Jerry for the quickness with which he had taken hold of the torn sail and steadied it.

”A loose sail on board a racing craft is a dangerous thing,” he said, ”for there is no telling how much damage it will do.”

The squall was of short duration, not lasting over seven minutes, if as long. It gathered strength as it worked off sh.o.r.e, and some of the pleasure boats received the full benefit of it.

As the Defender got within two miles of the finis.h.i.+ng line the breeze fell off.

Still the gallant craft held her own.

”The finish is in sight!” cried Jerry, presently.

He was right. A mile more and the race would be over.

Those on board of the Spray did their best to haul up to the Defender.