Paul, sending one nervous glance that way, could see Pud Snooks glaring at them as though he could eat either of the two alive. There was an expression on his heavy face that bordered on desperation; and Paul became more than ever convinced that Elmer and his crony must have made up their minds to attempt some crooked play, in the hope of balking the efforts of the Lightning’s crew to pass them.
All this while Harry had been studying his chances. He had purposely come up from behind, and had chosen the leeward side of the boat in advance. This was done with a distinct purpose. If, as he expected, Elmer altered the course of the Glider, and attempted to block their way, Harry meant to suddenly shift his helm and shoot up on the windward side.
This movement he calculated to make so suddenly as to momentarily confuse the opposing pilot. And when Elmer could collect his senses enough to follow suit he would be just so many seconds too late; for by that time possibly the Lightning might be on even terms; and the big sail would blanket the Glider, shutting off the wind that was so essential to her forward progress.
Then perhaps, before she could recover from this staggering blow, the Lightning, which would not have lost her headway for even a second, might be out of reach, and rapidly leaving her outwitted rival in the lurch.
At such a time as this it requires an active brain to hatch up a scheme that carries with it a chance of success. Fortunately Harry was built that way. He saw his opportunity, and grasped it without hesitation.
Paul, as yet, had not the remotest idea just how his chum meant to work the deal. He recognized the fact that those on the other boat would try to get in the way, regardless of accidents, and block their passage. Thus Elmer would always claim that he had never been passed by any other iceboat, and if both craft were reduced to kindling wood by the collision, little he cared in his present reckless frame of mind.
But Paul had the utmost confidence in his comrade. He had seen Harry in action before now, and recognized the fact that he was gifted with a bright mind, capable of grasping the situation, and turning even a little thing to advantage.
And so he just lay there, holding on for dear life, ready to “take his medicine,” as he termed it, should there be a spill; and also keeping himself in readiness to do his little part should the skipper give a quick order; for it was Paul’s duty to look after the sail, and handle the sheet if they had to tack during their run, with the wind heading them off.
Now they were nosing up, so that the fore part of the Lightning seemed but a yard or two behind the rudder of the opposing craft, once called the “Queen of the Conoque,” but apparently destined to yield up that proud title to the later model owned by Paul Martin.
“Ha!”