The sky was obscured by piles of angry-looking clouds, and every thing looked like a southerly storm. The sun was now not more than half an hour high, but there would be about an hour more of daylight. The Goldwing was making at least eight miles an hour, and Dory was satisfied that Captain Gildrock's boat could not overtake him. He had headed it to the north-east, so as to take the shortest course; for the Goldwing must soon go to the north, or she would run ashore.
As soon as Dory noticed the change in the course of his uncle's boat, he began to haul in his sheets; for he saw that he was giving the boat the advantage of him, though it was not likely to gain enough to enable it to overhaul the schooner. The port boat was the only one from which he expected any interference. The skipper measured the distances very carefully with his eye. He calculated that he had to make half a mile to reach the point where the starboard boat would intercept him, if at all. Mr. Jepson's boat had to get over at least three-quarters of this distance.
Dory thought his chances were very good. At any rate, he determined to keep on his present course until he found himself mistaken. The Goldwing was tearing through the water at a tremendous rate. Since his passengers left her, she was trimmed down at the stern too much; but this did not interfere with her speed while she had a free wind.
The tiller was a great strain upon him, and it took all his strength to prevent the boat from coming up into the wind. There was certainly nothing like a lee helm in her present condition. As the wind increased in force the farther out he went from the sheltering shore, he was afraid he should not be able to hold her up to her course. If he let her broach to, and spilled the sails, he must certainly lose the race.
Taking the end of the sheet, which was considerably longer than was required, he took a turn with it around the end of the tiller. In this manner he was able to take the strain off his muscles in holding the boat; but at every gust of wind he had to put his helm up, and then let it off. He wanted the long tiller, but he could not leave the helm for a moment to get it.
The Goldwing occasionally dipped up the water over her lee wash-board; and, when she did this, it was necessary to "touch her up," or let her eat into the wind, as she would do if left to herself. The skipper was doing some bold and risky sailing, but he was determined to keep out of his uncle's hands if it were possible. He watched the starboard boat with the most intense interest. He had made up his mind that he had little to fear from her, even if she reached the point where the two courses of the boats met.
If Mr. Jepson put his boat in the course of the schooner, Dory did not see how he could help running over her. The collision would smash the quarter-boat, for it would strike her on the beam; while the schooner was not likely to be greatly harmed. She would strike with her bow, where she was least liable to injury.
As Dory continued on his course, he was satisfied that he was greatly outsailing the boat from which he expected trouble, if he had any. The water was getting rough, which impeded the speed of the quarter-boat, while it did not diminish that of the schooner. Five minutes later he was sure Mr. Jepson's boat would fall astern of him. He was confident of it, but he did not relax his care. The officer was urging his crew to increased exertions, but the oarsmen were evidently doing all they could.
The two craft were rapidly approaching each other. Dory realized that he should not have more than a boat's length to spare, but that was as good as a mile. He tried to keep cool, as his father had often told him he must do when there was any danger in a boat. His heart was in his mouth, and he tried in vain to swallow it; but it seemed to be too big for his throat.
"Hold on, Theodore!" shouted Mr. Jepson, when the two boats came within twenty feet of each other. "Your uncle wants you, and he won't do you any harm."