“Well, we’ll try to win without luck, that’s all,” said Harvey. “And, mind, we depend on you to have the camp still standing here when we get back. I shouldn’t think it would be nice to get back and find one’s camp gone, eh, Allan?”
“No,” replied the other, shortly.
The crew lost no time in stowing their blankets and camp-kit aboard the Surprise, and, leaving Allan Harding sullenly on guard, they sailed away for Bellport.
“Looks as though something was missing thereabouts,” chuckled Harvey, as they sailed past the spot where Tom’s and Bob’s camp had stood. “Doesn’t it strike you there used to be something there that’s gone now?”
This piece of humour on Harvey’s part seemed to tickle the crew vastly, for they shouted with derision as they sailed by.
“Guess they must have got tired of camping there,” roared Harvey, at which the others roared the louder.
Bellport, whither they were bound, lay about four miles down the coast of the mainland below Mayville. It was not so large a place as Southport, but was a favourite resort for yachtsmen, as the bay there was free of islands, and for ten or more miles there was a good sailing course.
The yacht Surprise did not reach Bellport till late that night, but Harvey and his crew were up bright and early the next morning, as the race was to come off at ten o’clock, and they wished to have everything ready for it.
“Hulloa, Harvey!” called a voice from a sloop a few rods away, as the captain of the Surprise came on deck.
“Hulloa, Jeff!” answered Harvey.