“We’ve got to be ready for it,” Sandy answered. “I expect him to shoot, and I expect him to start pretty soon. In fact, we’d better get down as far as possible right now!”
Both boys sat together on the cockpit deck, Jerry awkwardly steering and Sandy holding the mainsheet in his left hand. “You steer, Jerry,” he said. “I’m going to turn around so I can keep an eye on Jones. I expect the fireworks to start any minute now!”
“I can do without the entertainment,” Jerry said. Then he added once more, “Boy, I sure hope you know what you’re doing! If you don’t....” His voice trailed off.
Half kneeling, Sandy crouched by the stern seat, keeping as much under cover as possible. Over the edge of the afterdeck he saw Jones’s sloop, closer now than it had been ever since their fantastic race had begun. For some reason, Jones was holding back, not closing in as fast as he had been before. Sandy knew that he must be puzzled, and trying to figure out what their next move would be. His success depended on outthinking them as much as it did on outsailing them, and his skill lay largely in his ability to guess what maneuver the boys were going to try next. This time, Sandy thought, he must really be baffled. No one in his right mind would try to escape as they were doing!
For minutes that seemed like hours, the chase continued with Jones making no effort to advance. Then, Sandy realized, Jones made up his mind to attack. His sails were trimmed fuller, his spinnaker lofted higher, and a white bow wave broke out to signify Jones’s new speed. There wasn’t much time left now before things would start popping!
By now, less than one hundred yards separated the two boats. Not much more distance, Sandy thought, than a target range. Still, it wasn’t quite close enough....
A shot! As they heard the crack of the pistol, the whine of the bullet passed overhead! Another shot—another—and a piece of the coaming splintered off uncomfortably close to Sandy’s ear!
Jones’s boat surged on, preceded by a rain of shots. Now less than fifty yards of water were between them! More shots followed, mostly going through the sails. With a thunk, one hit the hull—another gouged up the deck—a third hit the tiller, not six inches from Jerry’s hand.
Jerry’s face looked white as he craned his neck to look up at his friend. “Whatever you’re planning, I wish you’d tell me now,” he said. “Because I may not be around to see the big moment when it comes!”
“You’ll be here,” Sandy said, “because the big moment is now! Turn around with me and watch Jones’s boat. If this works, it’s going to be something worth watching!”