"To save himself, I suppose," replied Donald. "But he won't make anything by it. He hid those papers in the shop within a day or two, I am sure, for I had my hand in the place where he put them, feeling for a brad-awl I dropped day before yesterday, and I know they were not there then. But he is used up, anyhow, whether we find the box or not, for he tells one story and Captain Shivernock another; and I think Captain Patterdale believes what I say now. But the race comes off to-day, and if I lose it, I am used up too."
The boat-builder left the house, and went on board of the Maud, which lay off the shop. Samuel Rodman was on deck, and they hoisted the mainsail. The wind had hauled round to the north-west early in the morning, and blew a smashing breeze, just such as Donald wanted for the great occasion. In fact, it blew almost a gale, and the wind came in heavy gusts, which are very trying to the nerves of an inexperienced boatman. The Penobscot, gayly dressed with flags, was moored in her position for the use of the judges.
"We shall not want any kites to-day," said Donald, as he made fast the throat halyard.
"No; and you may have to reef this mainsail," added Rodman.
"Not at all."
"But it is flawy."
"So much the better."
"Why so?"
"Because a fellow that understands himself and keeps his eyes wide open has a chance to gain something on the heavy flaws that almost knock a boat over. It makes a sharper game of it."
"But Commodore Montague is up to all those dodges."