The wisdom of Captain Silas Tucker’s departure from the straight course soon became apparent. The tide, indeed, at this point made a sweep inshore, for some reason, flowing far swifter in near the land than it did offshore. Again, too, the wind had slanted a little, and the yachts that had taken this course were soon in a better position relative to the stake-boat than the others. Slowly the _Anna Maud_ drew ahead of the _Bertha_, the captain of the latter boat realizing the advantage which the others were gaining too late to change his own course. As they neared the mark, even the _Surprise_ and the _Sally_ were leading the _Bertha_, which now seemed to be hopelessly out of the race. The race, indeed, seemed narrowed down to these three yachts, with a slight advantage in the _Anna Maud’s_ favour. “Hooray!” cried Harvey, “we are holding the _Anna Maud_ in fine style. She’s gaining ever so little, not enough thus far to cover our time allowance. They say she is fast off the wind, but so are we. That’s the best point of the _Surprise_. She sails better running free than any boat of her size I ever saw.” “Cracky!” cried young Tim, “I hope we take that silver cup back to camp with us. We’ll march through the streets with it, if we get it.” “Yes, if we get it,” replied Harvey. “It don’t do to be too sure, though.” Now the _Anna Maud_ was rounding the stake-boat and coming back over the course, not quite before the wind, owing to the slant to the westward that it had taken, but with her sheet well out. “The wind is in our favour,” said Harvey, gleefully. “There’s just enough slant to it so our jibs will help us some. They will draw a little, and that gives us an advantage over that catboat. Let that sheet go, now, Joe, the minute we turn the mark.” A moment later the _Surprise_ rounded the stake-boat, with a good lead over the _Sally_, and still near enough astern of the _Anna Maud_ to give her a good race. “Up with that centreboard, now, George—lively,” cried Harvey. “It’s a big board, and we don’t want to drag it a minute longer than we have to. It counts a whole lot with this tide running against it. What’s the matter? What are you waiting for? Up with it!” “Why, hang the thing!” exclaimed George Baker, “I’m trying to get it up as hard as ever I can. It won’t come. It’s stuck.” “What’s that?” cried Harvey. “Stuck? Nonsense! Here, you, Joe, hold this wheel a moment. I’ll have it up in a hurry.” He sprang forward, brushing George Baker out of the way impatiently. “Let me get hold there,” he said. Harvey seized the iron rod, which was fastened to the centreboard, and gave a strong pull. But the centreboard did not budge. He took a firmer hold and pulled with all his strength. It was of no avail. The board had stuck fast in its box.