“Why, the ru-ru-race to New York.”
“The launch race?” cried Nelson. “Is that so? The Sue won, eh?”
“Good for her!” said Bob. “She was the smallest one of the lot, wasn’t she, Nel?”
“Yes. Is it in the paper, Tommy? Read it out to us.”
So Tom, appeased by the flattering if tardy interest, read the account. The Sue had finished last in thirty-nine hours and five minutes, averaging an actual speed of 8.25 miles an hour. With her handicap of thirteen hours and four minutes she won the race from her nearest competitor, the Sizz, by about an hour and three-quarters. The Gnome had made the best actual speed, averaging just under ten miles an hour. Of the twelve starters nine had finished the race. They had found good weather all the way save while in the neighborhood of Martha’s Vineyard, when the sou’wester had met them.
“Say,” asked Nelson when Tom had finished, “when was that race?”
“Why,” answered Tom, “it was the day before yesterday, wasn’t it?”
“Day before yesterday!” exclaimed Dan. “What are you talking about, Tommy?”
“It was!”
“Tommy’s right,” said Bob, “but——”