f a louder exhaust from the boat astern. The
young man evidently was going to try his best to win.

But Cora had no intention of letting him do so. She had shrewdly
estimated the ability of his boat, as well as she could, though of
course it was difficult, in the case of a craft she had never before
seen.

"Sit on the other side; will you, Lottie dear?" asked Cora, as,
grasping the steering wheel with firmer fingers she looked at the
course ahead of her.

"Oh, I'm so comfortable here," objected Lottie.

"I know, but the boat isn't trimmed properly, and she can't do her
best unless she is."

"Like us girls," remarked Belle. "We, too, must be properly trimmed to
do our best."

"Trimmed!" exclaimed Lottie. "I don't see any frills on the _Chelton_."

"You may later, if we win the race," said Bess. "But what Cora means
is that the boat isn't properly balanced. There is too much weight on
the starboard side."

"Oh, then I'm on the starboard side," said Lottie.

"Yes, or on the right, according to the new navy rules," agreed Cora.
"But, really, someone must shift."

"But if I go over there I'm afraid the spray will get on my dress,"
objected Lottie. "And it spots terribly, especially with salt water."

"I'll change over," said Marita. "I don't mind if my dress does get
wet."

"You're a dear," sighed Lottie, as she settled back among the
cushions.

"And you're a bit selfish," thought Cora.

The _Chelton_, now in better trim, skimmed over the bay. Behind her
came the _Pickerel_. And, as Cora looked back she noted that the young
man's craft was slowly overtaking her.

"He has more speed than I thought he had," she mused.

Foot by foot the young man urged his boat onward. Clearly he was not
of that false chivalrous type that permits a lady to win whether she
has the ability or not. To a really athletic girl, pitted against a
man in an equal contest, nothing is more humiliating than to realize
that her opponent is not putting forth all his powers. There are some
men who will never try too hard to win from a woman. This stranger was
evidently not of that type, and Cora valued him accordingly.

"Can you get up any more speed?" asked Belle, anxiously.

"I've got a bit left," said Cora, as she opened the throttle a little
wider. "And I think I'll need it," she added.

"He certainly is coming on," added Belle in a low voice. "Are we
getting too near the rocks, Cora?"

"No, it's safe so far. But I think I'll go