“It isn’t that—it’s the motor. One never knows when they are not going to ‘mote.’ But this one seems to be coming on well,” and Grace glanced critically at the various parts. They were well out in Rainbow Lake now, and many eyes were watching the race. One of the last boats to get away had given up, for the girls in charge could not remedy the ignition trouble that developed soon after they started. This left five. The _Gem_ was second in line, but behind her a very powerful boat was gradually creeping up on her, even as she was overhauling the boat that got away first. “Can’t you turn on a little more gasoline?” asked Mollie. “I think I can—now,” spoke Betty. “I wanted to give it gradually.” She opened the throttle a little more, and advanced the spark slightly. The result was at once apparent. The _Gem_ shot ahead, and the girls in the leading boat looked back nervously. “One of them is that pretty girl Will danced with so often at the ball,” said Mollie, as she got a glimpse of the rival’s face. “Yes, and the other is her cousin, or something,” spoke Betty. “I was introduced to her. It’s mean, perhaps, to beat you, girls,” she whispered, “But I’m going to do it.” The chugging of many motors—the churning to foam of the blue waters of the lake—a haze of acrid smoke hanging over all, as some cylinder did not properly digest the gasoline vapor and oil fed to it, but sent it out half consumed—spray thrown up now and then—the distant sound of a band—eager eyes looking toward the stake buoys—tense breathing—all this went to make up the race in which our outdoor girls were taking part. Foot by foot the _Gem_ crept up on the _Bug_, which was the name of the foremost boat. Drop by drop Betty fed more gasoline to her striving motor. The other girls did their duty, if it was only encouragement. Those in the _Bug_ worked desperately, but it was not to be. The _Gem_ passed them. “We’re sorry!” called Betty, as she flashed by. The other girls smiled bravely. The _Gem_ was now first, but the race was far from won. They were on the last leg, however, but in the rear, coming on, and overhauling Betty and her chums as they had just overhauled the others, was the speedy _Eagle_. She had been last to get off, but had passed all the others. “They are after us,” spoke Mollie, as she held the wheel a moment while Betty tucked under her natty yachting cap some wind-tossed locks of hair. “But they shan’t get us,” declared the Little Captain grimly. “We haven’t reached our limit yet.” Once more she gave more gasoline, but the rivals in the rear were settling down now to win the race for themselves. The _Eagle_ came on rapidly. The finish line was near at hand, but it seemed that Betty and her chums had the upper hand. Suddenly Grace cried: “One of the wires is broken. It’s snapped in two, and it’s spouting sparks!” There came a noticeable slowing down to the speed of the motor. The _Gem_ lagged. The _Eagle_ was in hot pursuit. Betty acted quickly.