“But we’d lose the race just the same,” said Fred. “Let that sheet out a little there, String. Whenever she heels over like that, give her a little more rope and I’ll bring her up into the wind for a second.”
“That makes us lose time, doesn’t it?” asked Grant.
“I think so. It seems to me that if we stopped and put a reef in the sail we’d sail more evenly and as a result we’d go faster.”
“Those fellows in the Spruce don’t seem to be putting in any reefs, I notice,” remarked George. “If they don’t need them I don’t see why we do.”
“But the breeze is getting so much stronger,” insisted Fred. “It really seems to me that we should put in one reef anyway.”
“How long will it take us?”
“Not two minutes. We can do it in no time.”
“We’d better wait until we round this next stake, I think,” said Grant. “We can do it, then.”
“All right,” agreed George. “I don’t believe in it, though. I love it this way,” and he exclaimed delightedly as the Balsam heeled far over and the spray from the crest of one of the white-caps drenched him from head to foot.
“It’s cold, though,” objected John.