f him, and then, for the
first time, it dawned upon him that the reputation of the Skylark was at
stake. He had his crew of five with him, and he placed them in position
to improve the sailing of his craft. He ordered one of his hands to give
a small pull on the jib-sheet, another to let off the main sheet a
little, and a third to haul up the centre-board a little more, as she
was going free.

The effect of this attention on the part of the skipper of the Skylark
was to lessen the distance between her and the Sea Foam; they were abeam
of each other, with the Phantom in the same line. The Christabel was
about a cable's length ahead of them.

"She's game yet," said Gus Barker, his disappointment evident in the
tones of his voice, as the Skylark came up to the Sea Foam.

"This is a new boat, and I haven't got the hang of her yet," Donald
explained. "Haul up that fin a little, Dick."

"What fin?"

"The centre-board."

"Ay, ay," replied Dick, as he obeyed the order.

"Steady! that's enough," continued Donald, who now narrowly watched the
sailing of the Sea Foam, to assure himself that she did not make too
much leeway.

"That was what she wanted!" exclaimed Gus, when the yacht began to gain
again, and in a few minutes was half a length ahead.

[Illustration: THE START. Page 51.]

"But not quite so much of it," replied Donald, when he saw that his
craft was sliding off a very little. "Give her just three inches more
fin, Dick."

The centre-board was dropped this distance, and the tendency to make
leeway thus corrected.

"She is gaining still!" cried Gus, delighted.

"Not much; it is a pretty even thing," added Donald.

"No matter; we beat her, and I don't care if it's only half an inch in a
mile."

"But the Christabel is leading us all. She is sure of all the first
prizes."

"Not a bit of it. She has to reef when there's a capful of wind. In a
calm she will beat us, but when it blows we shall wax her all to
pieces."

"Hallo!" shouted Mr. Laud Cavendish, whose small sail-boat was
overhauled about half way over to Turtle Head. "Is that you, Don John?"

"I believe so," replied Donald.

"Where you going?"

"Over to Turtle Head. Want us to give you a tow?"

"No; you needn't brag about your old tub. She don't belong to you; and
I'm going to have a boat that will beat that one all to splinters,"
replied Laud.

"All right; fetch her along."

"I say, Don John, I'm going to stop over Sunday on Turtle Hea