"What's the trouble? What's the matter?" demanded George
excitedly as the Varmint II was seen to be creeping steadily
ahead of its rival.
"Never you mind," said Sam brusquely. "We aren't goin' to be left
in this race. If everything keeps up as it ought to and nothin'
breaks down, we'll be in ahead at the finish."
The race was far different from that in which the boys had
engaged in their track meets. In those contests endurance and a
reserve of strength were elements that counted almost as much for
success as speed.
In the present race, however, there was no fear of exhaustion and
if the Black Growler only held to her course, the Go Ahead boys
were satisfied that they had little to fear.
When the Varmint II had gained a lead of about ten feet the
distance between the two boats remained stationary. Both now were
moving swiftly, the stern of each boat had settled low in the
water and the spray from the bow speedily drenched every one on
board. All, however, were unmindful of any thought of discomfort.
Their eyes occasionally were turned toward their rival, but in
the main all were looking straight ahead. The sound of the
whistles of the yachts, many of which now were slowly moving in a
line parallel to that which the racers were following, apparently
indicated the delight of many that the Varmint II was leading.
Already it was manifest that the other contesting boats had
dropped back, as had been expected.
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