He trimmed the sails a little, and began to be somewhat excited over the prospect of a race. The Christabel was three feet longer than the other yachts, and it was soon evident that in a light wind she was more than a match for them, for she ran ahead of the Sea Foam. Her jib and mainsail were much larger in proportion to her size than those of the other sloops, but she was not an able boat, not a heavy-weather craft, like them. The Sea Foam continued to gain on the Skylark, till she was abreast of her, while the Phantom kept about even with her. But then Robert Montague was busy all the time talking with his companions about the Yacht Club, and did not pay particular attention to the sailing of his boat. The Sea Foam began to walk ahead of him, and then, for the first time, it dawned upon him that the reputation of the Skylark was at stake. He had his crew of five with him, and he placed them in position to improve the sailing of his craft. He ordered one of his hands to give a small pull on the jib-sheet, another to let off the main sheet a little, and a third to haul up the centre-board a little more, as she was going free. The effect of this attention on the part of the skipper of the Skylark was to lessen the distance between her and the Sea Foam; they were abeam of each other, with the Phantom in the same line. The Christabel was about a cable's length ahead of them. "She's game yet," said Gus Barker, his disappointment evident in the tones of his voice, as the Skylark came up to the Sea Foam. "This is a new boat, and I haven't got the hang of her yet," Donald explained. "Haul up that fin a little, Dick." "What fin?" "The centre-board." "Ay, ay," replied Dick, as he obeyed the order. "Steady! that's enough," continued Donald, who now narrowly watched the sailing of the Sea Foam, to assure himself that she did not make too much leeway. "That was what she wanted!" exclaimed Gus, when the yacht began to gain again, and in a few minutes was half a length ahead. [Illustration: THE START. Page 51.] "But not quite so much of it," replied Donald, when he saw that his craft was sliding off a very little. "Give her just three inches more fin, Dick." The centre-board was dropped this distance, and the tendency to make leeway thus corrected. "She is gaining still!" cried Gus, delighted. "Not much; it is a pretty even thing," added Donald. "No matter; we beat her, and I don't care if it's only half an inch in a mile." "But the Christabel is leading us all. She is sure of all the first prizes." "Not a bit of it. She has to reef when there's a capful of wind. In a calm she will beat us, but when it blows we shall wax her all to pieces." "Hallo!" shouted Mr. Laud Cavendish, whose small sail-boat was overhauled about half way over to Turtle Head. "Is that you, Don John?" "I believe so," replied Donald. "Where you going?" "Over to Turtle Head. Want us to give you a tow?"