Dolly laughed at the answer.
“I bet I know who named her!” she said, merrily. “If that isn’t just like Gladys Cooper! Well, I want a good race, and I can have just as much fun if we’re beaten, as long as I can feel that I haven’t made any mistakes in sailing the Eleanor. But–well, I guess I would like to beat Gladys. I bet she’s awfully sure of winning!”
“She’s had more experience in sailing boats like these than you have, Dolly,” said Eleanor.
“She’s welcome to it,” said Dolly. “I shan’t make any excuses if I lose. I’ll be ready to admit that she’s better than I am.”
The two boats converged together upon the opening in the bar, and soon those on one could see everything aboard the other. Gladys Cooper, like Dolly, sat at the helm, steering her boat, and a look of grim determination was in her eyes and on her unsmiling face.
“She certainly does want to win,” said Margery. “She’s taking this too seriously–score one for Dolly.”
“You think she’d do better if she weren’t so worked up, Margery?”
“Of course she would! There are just two ways to take a race or a sporting contest of any sort–as a game or as a bit of serious work. If you do the very best you can and forget about winning, you’ll win a good deal oftener than you lose, if your best is any good at all. It’s that way in football. I’ve heard boys say that when they have played against certain teams, they’ve known right after the start that they were going to win, because the other team’s players would lose their tempers the first time anything went wrong.”
“We seem to be on even terms now,” said Eleanor, and, cupping her hands, she hailed Mary Turner. “All right? We might as well call this a start.”
“All right,” said Mary. “Shall I give the word!”