"About eight from here. It is just ten from the point astern of us."

"It is exactly twelve o'clock now. Let us see how long it takes us to go
eight miles."

"I can tell you now, sir," laughed Bobtail. "It will take us just
forty-eight minutes."

"Good, my lad! I will time you. If it takes forty-nine, you are no
prophet."

"I don't expect to tell within a minute; but I guess I'll steer myself,
if you are going to whittle me down as close as that."

Bobtail began to be very exact in his steering and sailing. He started
the sheets a couple of inches, and watched the point ahead very closely.
Ten miles an hour was fast sailing for a boat of the size of the
Skylark; but he knew she would do it if she was well handled. The two
gentlemen kept looking at their watches, and as the distance diminished
they declared she would make the point in half an hour; but distances
are very delusive on the water, and when half an hour had elapsed, they
thought that five minutes more would bring the boat up with the
headland. Bobtail watched his sails, and "steered small." In forty
minutes he found that he should make the point a little too soon, and he
let out the jib-sheet a little, so that the sail did not draw full.

"Forty-five minutes!" exclaimed Mr. Jones, "and we are off the point."

"But we are not up with it, sir," replied Bobtail, hauling in the
jib-sheet again.

"You are cutting it fine, Captain Bobtail," added Mr. Howe.

"Of course I meant abreast of the point, and when it lies just abeam, we
shall be up with it. Here we are, sir!"

"Forty-eight minutes to a second!" ejaculated Mr. Jones, as he showed
his watch to the skipper.

"Lower the jib, Monkey!" shouted Bobtail.

"I did not think you could hit it so closely as that," said Mr. Howe.

"Well, sir, I couldn't if you hadn't told me the time every few
minutes," laughed Bobtail. "I bamboozled you."

"How?"

"I should have made the point in three quarters of an hour if I hadn't
let out the jib-sheet. I lost the three minutes on purpose."

"But why do you lower the jib here?" asked Mr. Jones.

"We will try the fish here. Ready with the anchor, Monkey!"

"All ready," replied the Darwinian.

Bobtail threw the yacht up into the wind, and as soon as she had lost
her headway, he gave the order to let go the anchor. Monkey had got out
the fishing gear and opened the clams on the passage up, so that the
passengers threw over their lines immediately. They did not