"and I'll take you up. You'll have to give me odds, though."

"Oh, certainly," responded the bully, with a confident grin;
"twenty-five to thirty, say."

"Make it thirty-five."

"All right; done," said Jack. "You know me, of course; no necessity of
putting up the money."

"Oh, not the least," rejoined the other politely, though had he known
the state of Jack's finances he might have thought differently.

The bully went about making several bets at similar odds, until finally
Bill Bender came up behind him and in a low voice warned him to be
careful.

"What are you going to do if we lose?" he breathed. "You haven't got a
cent to pay with."

"Oh, it's like taking gum from a busted slot machine," rejoined the
bully, with a laugh. "They can't win. We know what their boat can do,
and the race is practically conceded to us. Besides--" he placed his
hand close to Bill's ear and whispered a few minutes. "I guess that's
a bad scheme, eh?" he resumed in a louder tone, though his voice was
still pitched too low for those about to hear him. "If it's done
right, we'll ram them and it'll never be noticed."

"Hum, I'm not so sure," grunted Bill. "However, if we really perceive
we are losing, I don't see what else we are to do. Are you going to
steer?"

"Sure. Sam lost his nerve at the last moment--like him, eh? It's a
good thing, though, I'm to be at the wheel, because I don't think Sam
would have had the courage to carry out my plan."

"Not he," said Bill, with a shrug. "He's got the backbone of a snail."

More of this interesting conversation was cut short by the "bang" of
the pistol which warned the contestants of the racing boats to get
ready.

"The race for the Hampton Yacht Club's trophy will take place in five
minutes!" cried the announcer.

The five contestants cast off from the float and slowly chugged out to
a position in the rear of the starting line and behind the committee
boat. Then came the nervous work of awaiting the starting gun. The
boys had all donned slickers, and the crew of the hydroplane wore
rubber coats which covered them completely. A sort of spray hood had
been erected over the hydroplane's engines.

"That means she's going to do her best," remarked Rob, pointing to this
indication that great speed was expected. "That's what we want to do,
too, isn't it?"

At last came the gun that started off the Snark, the Bonita and the
Albacore, which were all of about the same speed.