"Give it up," replied Marc.
"Because they require so much rigging," promptly responded Mr. Nye.
"Oh, uncle, that's not fair," cried Joe; "you knew the answer before."
"Well, I've two daughters, and ought to," replied Mr. Nye; and they all joined in his jolly laugh.
"Look out for the crack ahead!" shouted Charlie, as they rushed by a split in the ice. "Ready, about!" away they went on the other tack; and so the exciting race went on. Now one boat would be ahead, again another would dart by and take the lead, but some had fallen so hopelessly in the rear, that only a half-dozen remained in the race, and of these it was hard to tell which was the swiftest.
"I'm afraid we're going to have a snow-squall, sir," shouted Charlie. "There's a black cloud coming over the Hook Mountain."
"Let it come; I think the heavier it blows, the better for us," replied Mr. Nye.
The race was now three-quarters run, and everything must be decided in a few minutes. The squall had come over the Hook, darkening the heavens, and the gale made the boats dart along with lightning speed.
"The Marie is ahead of us," exclaimed Charlie Haines, peering into the flying snow. "Hello, something's the matter with her! Boat ahoy! Sheer off, or you'll run into us. Steady, boys," and a phantom shape rushed out of the mist and darted across their wake with peak halyard parted and the mainsail thundering in the wind.
The snow now hid everything in a wild whirl of mist.