In view of the reputation of Wesley Marrs and Ohlsen and O'Donnell and their vessels, we could not understand the confidence of Withrow and his people in Sam Hollis. He had a great vessel--nobody doubted it. But it was doubted by many if she was the equal of some of the others, and few believed she was better. And Sam Hollis was not the man to carry the sail, or at least the fishermen of Gloucester generally did not think so. But Withrow and Hollis's gang kept on bragging and they backed their bragging up, too. I drew what money I had saved that summer out of my seining share--two hundred and twenty-five dollars--and bet it myself with one of the Withrow's crew that the Johnnie Duncan would beat the Withrow, whether the Johnnie was home to race or not. It was really betting against Withrow himself, who, it was said, was taking up every bet made by any of the Withrow's crew. That was Thursday afternoon, and still no word of the Duncan. "Good for you, Joey," said Clancy when he heard of that. "Even if Maurice don't come it's better to lose your money and shut them up. But don't worry--he'll come. Do you think he's been standing and looking at this easterly--it's all along the coast to Newf'undland I see by the papers--and not swing her off? He's on his way now, and swinging all he's got to her, I'll bet. Wait and see." "My," said my cousin Nell, "and so you bet your pile on the Johnnie Duncan whether she's in or not?--and if she don't reach here in time you lose it all?" and told it all over to her Will Somers, to whom I learned she was now engaged. And from that time on I noticed that Alice Foster beamed on me like an angel. Minnie Arkell was home for the race just as Clancy had prophesied. She had come with some of her friends down from Boston three or four days before this, in the same steam-yacht she had been aboard of at Newport in June. Meeting me she asked me about our passage home on the Colleen Bawn, and I told her of it. She listened with great interest. "Is Tom O'Donnell as fine-looking as he used to be--with his grand figure and head and great beard? I remember some years ago I used to think him the finest-looking man I ever saw." I told her that I guessed she'd think him fine-looking yet if she'd seen him to the wheel of the Colleen Bawn with the six-pound shot whistling by him, and he never so much as letting on he knew they were there. Her eyes shone at that. Then she offered to take any bets I made off my hands. "You can't afford to take your little savings out of the bank and bet it on a vessel that may not be here in time. I'll take it off your hands--come!"