Matt, as soon as he had checked the speed of the Sprite and pointed her the other way, jogged back along the line of boats and picked Lorry and McGlory off one of the launches.
Lorry was radiant.
"You've done it, old boy!" he cried. "By Jupiter! you've done it. You sit down and take it easy—I'll look after the Sprite!"
"Speak to me about this!" whooped McGlory, throwing his arms around Matt in a bear's hug. "Oh, recite this to me, in years to come, and the blood will bound through my veins with all the—er—the—— Hang it, pard, you know what I mean! I've gone off the jump entirely. Hooray for Motor Matt!"
As Lorry laid the Sprite alongside the stake boat, somebody tossed her a line.
"Come aboard, all of you," called a voice.
It was Spicer, commodore of the Yahara Club.
While Matt, Lorry, and McGlory were going up one side of the yacht, Mr. and Mrs. Merton were descending the other, getting into the boat that was to take them ashore to their waiting automobile.
Mr. Lorry, red as a beet, his collar wilted, his high hat on the back of his head, and his necktie around under his ear, met the victors, giving one hand to Matt and the other to George.
"Jove!" he said huskily, "I've yelled myself hoarse. Oh, but it was fine!"