quite transformed by the addition. It presented a
quaint, foreign appearance, for the high square sail was exactly like
that of a Chinese junk, while its flaming red color was irresistibly
suggestive of the craft that ply in Venetian lagoons.

So Randy thought, anyhow, and he was more than pleased with his
handiwork. He applied the finishing touches by tying a cord to each
lower corner of the sail, and by this device he proudly hoped to control
the movements of the canoe.

Randy was considerably overestimating his skill as a sailing master, but
no one could have made him believe it at the time. He proudly seated
himself, and with a shove of the paddle freed the canoe from the bar.

The breeze quickly bulged out the thirty square feet of sail, and away
went the Water Sprite like a Chinese pirate in chase of booty. It gained
speed with every instant, and swept by the sluggish little fleet of
canoes under full pressure.

Randy turned around to laugh and wave his hand. He had to admit to
himself that he was very glad the boys were now in the rear, for the
sail hung so low that he could see no further than the prow of his
canoe. Still more disconcerting was the fact that the cords were
useless, since the least jerk to right or left threatened to capsize the
canoe instantly.

"I must keep a sharp eye on the shores if I want to stay in mid-channel,"
thought Randy. "I'm good for half a mile of this, anyhow, before the
wind changes."

But his calculation did not embrace any possible obstructions that might
lie in the way, and Randy was considerably surprised to find himself
grounded on a ledge of rocks before five minutes had passed. It was hard
work to get the canoe free, and just as he succeeded the boys caught up
with him.

"Better take the sail down now," suggested Ned. "You'll surely run into
something if you don't."

"No danger," laughed Randy. "I'll stop before I get to the curve. This
is great sport. You fellows just ought to try it."

He sent the Water Sprite off again by a touch of his paddle and skimmed
swiftly away from his half envious companions, leaving a trail of foam
behind him.

It was aggravating to be thus outstrippped and the boys started to
paddle with all their might. For a little while they actually seemed to
gain on Randy, but a lively puff of wind came down the creek, and the
Water Sprite took a spurt that made the chase hopeless.

The wind had veered a slight degree, and without knowing