h--you _und_ me, _hein_?
Now, de first who comes on de shore vins de money. Dot vill gif you
t'ree days' start, no?"

"That's more like it," said the other captains. "I wish you luck,
Burke," said Findlayson. "Good luck--you'll need it too--if you are to
be home before the big German."

So the bet was made.

At daybreak next morning we put out to sea. The good luck that the
_Rhondda_ wished us came our way from the very first. When the tug
left us we set sail to a fine fair wind, and soon were bowling along in
style. We found the nor'-east Trades with little seeking; strong
Trades, too, that lifted us to the Line almost before the harbour dust
was blown from our masts and spars. There calms fell on us for a few
days, but we drifted south in the right current, and in less than forty
days had run into the "westerlies" and were bearing away for the Horn.

Old Burke was "cracking on" for all the _Hilda_ could carry canvas.
Every morning when he came on deck the first question to the mate would
be: "Any ships in sight, mister?" . . . "Any ships astern," he meant,
for his first glance was always to where the big green four-master
might be expected to heave in sight. Then, when nothing was reported,
he would begin his day-long strut up and down the poop, whistling
"Garryowen" and rubbing his hands.

Nor was the joy at our good progress his alone. We in the half-deck
knew of the bet, and were keen that the ship which carried the
Merchants' Cup should not be overhauled by the runner-up! We had made
a fetish of the trophy so hardly won. The Cup itself was safely stowed
in the ship's strong chest, but the old man had let us have custody of
the flag. Big Jones had particular charge of it; and it had been a
custom while in 'Frisco to exhibit it on the Saturday nights to
admiring and envious friends from other ships. This custom we
continued when at sea. True, there were no visitors to set us up and
swear what lusty chaps we were, but we could frank one another and say,
"If you hadn't done this or that, we would never have won the race."

On a breezy Saturday evening we were busy at these rites. The _Hilda_
was doing well before a steady nor'-west wind, but the weather--though
nothing misty--was dark as a pall. Thick clouds overcast the sky, and
there seemed no dividing line between the darkling sea and the windy
banks that shrouded the horizon. A dirty night was in prospect; the
weather would thicken later;