out a bit. I want to win
this race."

CHAPTER XVIII

MORE SUSPICIONS

Cora Kimball well knew the capabilities of the _Chelton_. She had
steered other motor craft in many races, and was aware, almost to a
revolution, just how much speed was available in a boat of this kind.
And while she did not know what the rival boat could do, she was too
expert at water sports to use up her last reserve of speed.

So, even while she watched the other boat creep up on her, she did not
open the throttle to its fullest extent, nor did she advance the
timer, which controlled the spark, to the limit.

"I'm going to be in shape to spurt if I have to," reasoned Cora.

Foot by foot the other boat crept on.

"He's going to win!" exclaimed Bess, in disappointed tones.

"Don't be so sure," laughed Cora. "Remember, we have been in races
before, and in many a seeming hopeless one we have come out ahead."

"You girls are just--wonderful!" breathed Marita, as she crouched on
the seat she had taken.

"You don't know us yet," laughed Bess. "Wait until you see some of the
things Cora can do."

"Don't believe her!" exclaimed Cora, turning for an instant to smile
at the girl who always seemed to be effacing herself for others. Then
as she saw the spray coming up against the bows, and dashing over
Marita, she added:

"Oh, you poor child! Why didn't you say you were getting wet?"

"Oh, I don't mind," was the brave answer.

"But you must," insisted Cora. "Here, put this on," and from a forward
locker she pulled an oilskin coat, flinging it back to Marita, as at
that moment the boat yawed when a big wave hit the bows, necessitating
a firm hand on the wheel.

"Oh, it's getting rough!" exclaimed Lottie, apprehensively.

"Put away your nail-buffer and hang on," advised Bess. "It may be
rougher before it's calmer."

"I--I wish I hadn't come," mourned Lottie.

"You aren't going to be ill, I hope," said Cora, quickly.

"No, but my dress may be all spotted----"

"Here, take this," offered Marita.

"No, indeed, you keep that," said Cora, quickly. "There are more in
the lockers. Belle, will you get them out? It is a bit rough out
here."

They had gotten beyond the protection of the arm of land that enclosed
the bay, and with a strong tide running there were more waves than
there had been at first.

But the girls did not mind, save perhaps Lottie, and her chief anxiety
was for her dress. An oilskin coat, however, averted this d