"Mine
is probably the faster boat. You get in here with us, Miss Cora, and
we will run up and down the bay while your friends are working off the
oil smoke. That's a neat little boat you have, a perfect little
model," he finished, coming as close as possible to the _Chelton_.

"Yours is all right, too, Dray," replied Jack, "but it looks too good
to be true. Doesn't shoot up on land for a change, does it? I have
heard of _Dixies_ doing that stunt."

"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Lottie. "I am freezing to death. I guess I'll go
change my dress."

"Good idea," agreed Cora, who was ready to leave her boat and go back
to the bungalow with Lottie. "Come on," and she jumped to the dock to
which her boat had drifted. "I'll run along with you."

"Nice way to treat a fellow," complained Drayton. "Well, fellows, I'll
race you while we are waiting for the ladies to return. What do you
say, Jack?"

"I'm willing, as long as Cora has finally condescended to let me touch
the wheel. Everybody sit down this time."

Without a word all hands, keen for a race as soon as one was
suggested, took seats, and the two boats veered out into the bay and
"lined up" for the start. Denny was the proudest engineer imaginable,
and constantly looked over the fine mechanism.

"Ready!" shouted Ed, and at the word both throttles were thrown wide
open and the boats shot up the bay, emitting clouds of smoke from
their newly oiled works, and "chugging" so rapidly that the sounds
were drowned in a roar. It was a pretty sight, for in the girls' boat
a line of colored sweaters and waving caps lent life to the gray of
the waters, while Drayton, in his glistening, highly-polished _Dixie_,
only needed the glint that the sun lent to complete the picture
afforded by his fine craft.

"Oh, isn't this glorious!" exclaimed Marita. "I thought I should be
frightened, but this is--lovely."

"Frightened!" repeated Belle. "I used to be so afraid of the water I
couldn't see anything but the bottom every time I came out; but now I
just love it."

"Hey there, Dray!" shouted Ed. "You're out of the course. Get in from
shore!"

"He's keeping his eye on those girls on the beach," laughed Walter.
"Those are the lassies who have the white canoe." So saying he waved
his own cap and a flutter of handkerchiefs from the beach came back in
recognition.

"Turn at the island," ordered Denny.

Here a white flag fluttered, the stake left from some recent sailing
races. Gracefully th