If young Willie Grimes had not been so taken by surprise and so alarmed at this move of Harvey’s, he would have perceived that the manœuvre was only done to try his nerve; he would have realized that as good a sailor as Harvey would not deliberately foul another yacht, when that must lose him the race, as well as the boat he fouled. But Harvey had reckoned on the other’s apprehension for his new boat, and the move was successful. Just at the point where a moment more would have sent his boom crashing aboard the other yacht as he headed up into the wind, Harvey threw his yacht quickly about, Joe Hinman hauled in rapidly on the main-sheet, Tim Reardon trimmed in the jibs, and away went the _Surprise_ over the line, footing after the two other boats as fast as full sail would carry her. At that same moment Willie Grimes, fearful of a collision, threw the _Sally_ completely off the wind, so that when he had recovered his nerve and realized that he had been imposed upon, he was so far below the boat that marked the limit of the starting-line that he had to make another tack to reach it. Before this, the last gun had been fired to mark the taking of the time, and the luckless _Sally_ crossed the line with one full minute counting against her. The youth’s face burned with indignation, and he had hard work to keep the tears from springing to his eyes. “Bye-bye, Willie,” sang out Harvey, looking back and waving his cap derisively. “Better courage next time. You don’t want to mind a little paint, you know.” But the other had regained his spirits and paid no heed. “That’s what yachtsmen call ‘jockeying,’ I guess,” he said, quietly, to his two companions in the boat. “It’s within the rules, so I suppose we cannot complain. That’s like Harvey, from all I hear. He might have given us a fair show, though, as he knows this is my first summer running a boat by myself. Perhaps we won’t be far astern of him at the finish, at that.” “You did that slick, Jack,” said Joe Hinman, admiringly. “We stand a good chance of winning this race, I think, with the allowance we get.” “Didn’t he scoot, though, when he saw us coming?” laughed Harvey. “Thought his new boat was wrecked that time, sure. I’ve seen that trick played in big yacht races, but I never saw it work better than it did to-day, if I do say it.” The yachts were now strung out in line along the course, tacking back and forth, and making for a small naphtha launch anchored down the bay at the five-mile mark. They made a picturesque sight, laying well over under all their canvas and throwing the water high over their bows. It was soon evident that the _Bertha_, take it all in all, was the best boat for working up to windward in rough water and a good breeze. The _Anna Maud_ was a very broad, beamy boat, and had a marvellous reputation for running free, but now she seemed to feel the waves more than the _Bertha_, pounding heavily and drenching every one aboard.