"I know. We ought to've been in yesterday mornin', or in the afternoon at the latest, for we swung her off Tuesday night midnight--plenty of time with a fair wind. But on Wednesday afternoon, coming like a race-horse--wung out--we sighted a dory and two men in it signalizing. Astray they were, and we took 'em aboard, and all that night we stood by. And warn't it chafing? Oh, no! Daylight came thick and we waited for it to clear, keeping the horn goin'. It lifted and we got another dory, but it was late afternoon then. Then their vessel came along with all the others accounted for, and we turned over our two and went on our way. And maybe she didn't come! Oh, no! Blowing? A living gale all the time, but the skipper kept her going. You'd hardly b'lieve if I told you where we was yesterday afternoon and we here now. A no'the-easter and a howler all the way. At four o'clock we passed in by the bell-buoy. Man, such a blow! Are we in the race, you say? Are we! And oh, the skipper says for you and Joe to be down after breakfast. We all knew you'd get home and be all right with Tom O'Donnell. So be down after breakfast--the skipper will be looking for you both. But say, let me tell you. What d'y'think? Coming into the harbor a while ago who d'y' s'pose was out in the stream with a lighter alongside his vessel? Who but Sam Hollis and the Withrow. Yes, and the gang putting ballast back in her." "No?" "Yes. And some one of them sees us going by in the dark. And we did go by, too! 'Lord!' says somebody--'twas Withrow himself--'but if that don't look like the ghost of Maurice Blake's vessel!' 'Yes,' hollers back the skipper--and they must've been some surprised to hear him--'and the ghost'll be with you to-morrow in the race. Yes,' the skipper says, 'and we're all ready for it. Four weeks since we've been on the ways and maybe a scrubbing wouldn't hurt her, but if it keeps a-blowin' who'll mind that? Not the Johnnie.' Oh, Tommie, if you'd seen her comin' across the Bay of Fundy yesterday afternoon and last night. Did she come?--did she come? Lord--O Lord----" "And so that's Withrow--got his vessel tuned up like a fiddle and now he's putting extra ballast in her. Blast him and Hollis for schemers!" said Clancy. "And that's how it comes they're so ready to bet--stiffenin' her so stiff for to-morrow that they know something'll happen to the others first. But the Johnnie's a bit stiff, too--and there's no ballast out of her. And, as the skipper says, maybe we ain't been on the ways for a few weeks now, but Lord, the Johnnie ought to be able to drag a few little blades of sea-grass on her hull in this breeze. And so we're in the race, heh? Dave, I can't stop to give you the pledge now-- Oh, the Johnnie Duncan fast and able, Good-by, dear, good-by, my Mabel." And Clancy was the joyful man as he awoke the echoes in the gray of that stormy morning. XXX THE MORNING OF THE RACE