“I hope it does come,” cried Jack. “The Alice is a boat for a good, stiff blow.”
When the end of the second leg was reached the Ajax rounded the stakeboat first. The Neptune followed at a distance of a hundred yards. The Alice was now a good eighth of a mile behind.
“Can’t we do something to catch up, Jack?” asked Pepper. To stand still and see the other boats go ahead was maddening.
“Yes,” was the young skipper’s sudden reply. “Stand by to shift the mainsail.”
All sprang to obey his order—for to do anything was better than to do nothing. Jack had his eyes on a spot ahead on the surface of the lake. He was watching the water very intently and at the same time speculating on the clouds that were piling up to the westward.
A moment later he gave the order to shift the sail. Over it went with a crack, and the Alice’s rudder came around like lightning. The craft quickly veered, leaving the course taken by the two sloops ahead.
“Why, you are out of the course!” shouted Andy. “Oh, Jack, this won’t do at all!”
“We’ll lose ground,” added Stuffer. “Oh, Jack, you’re going wrong!” And in his excitement he threw several peanut kernels overboard and stuffed the shells in his mouth.
“A soft spot ahead—I am going to keep out of it,” was the young skipper’s answer, and he nodded to show what he meant. “They are in it, thank goodness!” he muttered, a minute later.
Then the others understood—and rejoiced. The Ajax had run into a “soft spot,” so called by sailors—that is, a place where the wind had died away. The Neptune followed, and the sails of both craft flapped idly against the masts. The Alice went wide of the “soft spot,” and though she felt something of the decrease in the wind, yet Jack managed to keep her sails filled and slowly but surely came up on a reach and overlapped the Neptune. Then she forged ahead after the Ajax.