“If only the course were longer!” Sally murmured, straining against the pull of the main sheet.
They rounded the second marker only a few feet behind a group of bunched boats. One by one they passed them until only seven remained ahead. But with the finish line close by, they could not seem to gain another inch.
“We can’t make it,” Sally said, turning to gaze at the shore with its crowd of excited spectators. “We’re bound to finish seventh or eighth, out of the race.”
“We’re still footing faster than the other boats,” Penny observed. “Don’t give up yet.”
A moment later, the crack of a revolver sounding over the water, told the girls that the Spindrift had crossed the finish line in first place.
To add to Sally’s difficulties, the rescued girl began to stir and rock the boat. Each time she moved, the Cat’s Paw lost pace. Though they passed the next two boats, they could not gain to any extent on the one which seemed destined to finish in fifth place.
Sally had been right, Penny realized. Barring a miracle, the Cat’s Paw could not be among the winners. Although they were slowly gaining, the finish line was too close for them to overcome the lead of the remaining boats.
And then the miracle occurred. The Elf, directly ahead, seemed to falter and to turn slightly aside. The Cat’s Paw seized the chance and forged even.
“Go to it, Sally!” her skipper, Tom Evans, a freckled youth, called. “You belong in the finals!”
Then the girls understood and were grateful. Deliberately, the boy had slowed his boat so that Sally might be among the winners.