"We don't seem to be gaining," remarked 'Tom, after a long silence. "I can just about make her out and that's all."
"But we are gaining, and you'll find it so pretty soon," answered Martin Harris. "They had the advantage in dodging among those other boats, but now we've got a clear stretch before us."
On and on went the two yachts, until the Flyaway was not over five hundred feet ahead of the Searchlight.
"What did I tell you?" said Harris. "We'll overtake her in less than quarter of an hour."
"This is a regular yacht race," smiled Dick grimly. "But it's for more than the American Cup."
"Keep off!" came suddenly from ahead. "Keep off, or it will be the worse for you!"
It was Dan Baxter who was shouting at them. The former bully of Putnam Hall stood at the stern rail of the Flyaway and was using his hands like a trumpet.
"You had better give up the race, Baxter!" called Dick in return.
"You can't get away from us, no matter how hard you try."
"Keep off," repeated Baxter. "We won't stand any nonsense."
"We are not here for nonsense," put in Tom. "What have you done with Dora Stanhope?"