It was evident from the change in her course that the Marjorie was bent on keeping near the Storm King.
“She is just like some people,” went on Tom. “She doesn’t wait for an invitation, she is coming along, too.”
The Storm King, under a full head of steam was rolling off the knots, and increasing the distance from the Marjorie.
“If we can keep this up,” said Tom, joyfully, “she will soon be hull down.”
“If we had a nigger to put on the safety valve,” said the professor.
“A nigger on the safety valve,” questioned Tom, “I don’t understand.”
“Why they say that on the Mississippi river when they have a race on, they put a negro on the safety valve to keep it down when the pressure gets so high as to blow it off at the regular set weight.”
“But that must be dangerous,” objected Tom.
“Of course, it is,” laughed the professor, “but nobody cared for danger where there was a race on.”
But in the meantime the Marjorie was once more picking up the distance and growing more distinct. For three or more hours the race went on, but the Marjorie regained and then maintained her relative distance, and the professor reluctantly directed the captain to slow down.