It was as the Sago-ye-wat-ha passed Alley’s Inn a winner and sped on down the Lake towards Bluff Point and “home” that Richard caught sight of “Count” stretched out on the lawn and saw beside him a figure in grey standing silhouetted against the trees; then he knew that Jerry had been present to see at least the glorious finish. She had a pair of field-glasses to her eyes, and as he became conscious of the fact that she was following the fast retreating yacht his ears burned and the blood flushed his neck and forehead. It was fortunate at that moment that the Sago-ye-wat-ha had no urgent need of her “stay” tender!
Walter bore his victory very grimly. He smiled faintly towards the shore as the horns tooted and the motor whistles blew and he listened attentively to the chorus of exciting congratulations from his crew and from the crowd on the end of the dock and from unknown persons scooting by in motor-boats, but he said nothing. His eye was on Bluff Point and his mind seemed to be busy calculating if this sweeping northeaster would last long enough to carry him home.
The other members of the crew would have preferred to stay and bask in the victory. It would be pleasant to anchor off the Inn and watch the veterans, Moodiks and Cohlosa, fight it out for second place. But Walter said “No,” and no one pressed him. The victory was his entirely, they realized, and in this happy hour the captain’s wishes would be their law.
On his way home Richard spent his time watching the boy’s face. In the past month Walter seemed to have grown several steps nearer to manhood; certainly as he held the tiller snug under his left arm and trimmed the mainsheet with his right hand he looked miles removed from the helpless creature of the S.S. Victoria. The “cure” had made great progress; so great, indeed, that Richard was quite puffed up with pride of this secret victory of his which outclassed the winning of a mere yacht race.
He wished to hear him talk, to see how he carried himself in this unique experience of having done something worthy of public commendation.
“If that wind-pocket is always off shore when a southeaster blows,” he began, “how is it that the other skippers don’t know of it?”
“’Tain’t always there,” said Walter; but he did not grin sheepishly, as he might have done several weeks ago.
“Oh!... Weren’t you sure it was there to-day?”
“No, not sure; jes’ took a chance. Things looked right.”
“Suppose you had missed your guess?”