“And so, the rivalry of Cap’n Joe and Cap’n Si will excuse your own mad determination to get to port first?” suggested Mr. Gates, quietly. “I don’t believe you’ll feel that way, young man, twelve months from now. And how about the little girl?”
“Pshaw! there’s no danger,” said Mr. Barney, lightly.
“I hope there will be no danger—no more than there is now, at least,” said the mate, significantly. Then he saw me on lookout and said, irritably: “Come away! This is no place to talk.”
I wondered what the mate thought Mr. Barney would do for the sake of helping the Gullwing to win the race; but I heard nothing more of their conversation. This occurred in the evening when we could just see the ghostly sails of the Seamew as she stood on for us. Mr. Barney soon after took the wheel himself, it being the captain’s watch. From that point on to the end the second mate was more frequently at the wheel than at any previous time during the cruise.
Day and night the two huge schooners ran almost even. Our skipper was seldom off the deck. I don’t know when he found time to sleep. He never lost a chance to make the most of a puff of wind. The men worked for him eagerly and well; but they stood double watches.
Some of the small sails Cap’n Joe even had us dip overboard so that, well wetted, they would better hold the wind. It was four bells in the morning watch when the Seamew crossed our bow. She had been trying for it for twenty-four hours, or more. And when she cut us off and we had to take her white water, a groan of derision was raised by her crew.
We were sore—every man Jack of us. Cap’n Joe and Cap’n Si had it hot and heavy from their respective stations.
“Better give us a line aboard so’t we can tow ye in, Joe!” bawled Cap’n Si.
“You air mighty willin’ to give a helpin’ hand jest now, Si,” returned our skipper, with scorn. “But it warn’t allus so.”
I saw Mr. Alf Barney at the Seamew’s wheel. He handled the ship splendidly. When the Seamew came about on the other tack, her helmsman met the waves just right and swung her over so that the sails scarcely shook at all. She reared up on one tack, turned as it were on her heel, and swept away on the other tack at a speed that sent the spray flying high above her rail. It was a pretty sight.