“Nonsense,” cried George. “If you were half a man you wouldn’t mind it.”
John merely shivered, and placing Grant in temporary charge of the sheet he crawled forward and drawing his sweater out from under the deck, he put it on.
“Get ready now,” warned Fred. “The stake is just ahead.”
“And we’re going to take in a reef as soon as we round it. Is that right?” inquired Grant.
“That’s the idea,” said Fred. “Here we go,” and putting the tiller hard over he brought the Balsam cleanly around the mark and headed her up into the wind.
“Let go that topping lift, Pop!” he cried. “Loose your halyards there, Grant! Now, String, let’s get busy!”
He left his post, and ordering and helping his comrades, he took charge of the work of reefing. He had predicted two minutes for the work, but it took at least five, and before they had finished the Spruce was almost up to them.
“Hurry, Fred, hurry!” urged George. “They’re catching us.”
“All right,” cried Fred, springing back to the tiller. “Haul in your sheet there, String!”
The bow of the Balsam swung slowly around and as the sail filled she began to slip through the water once more. Not twenty-five yards behind them now came the Spruce, her full sail spread. Thomas waved his hand and shouted something to the four Go Ahead boys but the wind blew the sound away and the words were lost.