"Our turn next," said Rob, who had previously received his instructions
from the committee.
"Well, I'm all ready," said Merritt, nervously twisting a grease cup.
CHAPTER XIII
THE "FLYING FISH" ON HER METTLE
"Bang!"
With a nervous twitch, Rob threw in the first speed clutch, for the
engine had been kept running on her neutral speed, and was able to take
up way as soon as the propeller began to "bite."
Rapidly the boy increased the speed up to the third "forward," and the
Flying Fish darted through the water like a pickerel after a fat frog.
"Bang!" came behind them once more, as the sound of the cheers which
greeted them as they shot across the line grew faint.
"Crouch low!" shouted Rob back to his crew. "We'll need every inch of
advantage we can get."
The white spray shot in a perfect fountain from the sharp bow of the
Flying Fish, and her every frame and plank quivered under the vibration
of her powerful engine.
"She's doing better than she ever did!" shouted Merritt to Tubby, who
crouched in the center of the boat, ready to take any part in an
emergency.
The other nodded and kept his eyes ahead on the white wake of the other
three craft.
Suddenly the Albacore began to fall back. As the Flying Fish roared by
her, Rob heard a shout of something about "missing fire."
A steady downpour of spray was drenching the occupants of the racer,
but they paid scant heed to it. Rob dived in his pockets and put on a
pair of goggles. The spray was blinding him. He waved to Tubby to go
further astern and keep the rear part of the boat well down when they
made the sharp turn at the red buoy.
In an incredibly short time, it seemed, the turning buoy faced them.
Rob set his wheel over and spun the Flying Fish through the rougher
water at the mouth of the inlet at as sharp an angle as he dared. In a
few seconds more they had passed the Snark and the Bonita, which were
racing bow and bow. The crew of the Flying Fish, though, knew that
both boats had a time allowance over them, so that the mere passing
didn't mean much, unless they could increase the lead.
Faster and faster the boy's craft forged ahead. A thrill shot through
Rob's frame. The Flying Fish was showing what she was made of.
But as he turned his head swiftly he saw that the hydroplane had
rounded the stake and was coming down the straight stretch of water
like an express train. A great wave of water shot out on either side
|