The Yacht Club; or, The Young Boat-Builder by Oliver Optic (chrome ebook reader .TXT) 📖

be no race," said Sam Rodman, who was now the chairman of the judges.

"The commodore will put the Skylark through, whatever the weather," replied Frank Norwood.

"Don John will keep the Sea Foam flying as long as Bob runs the Skylark, you may depend."

"It was quite a little squall that swept across the bay just now," added Rodman. "I hope no accident has happened to them."[172]

"I'll risk the accidents. I would give a dollar to know which one was ahead."

"Not much doubt on that point."

"I think there is. Don John generally knows what he is about. He don't very often say what he can do, but when he does, he means it."

"The commodore is too much for him."

"Perhaps he is, but I have hopes of the Sea Foam. Don John is building the Maud for me, and I have some interest in this race. I don't want a yacht that is to be beaten by everything in the fleet. If the Skylark is too much for the Sea Foam, the chance of the Maud won't be much better."

The judges discussed the merits of the two yachts for half an hour longer, and there was as much difference of opinion among them as among the rest of the spectators of the race.

"There's one of them!" shouted Frank Norwood, as the Sea Foam emerged from the cloud of mist which accompanied the rain.

"Which is it?" demanded Rodman.

"I can't make her out," replied Norwood, for the yacht was over a mile distant.

"But where is the other? One of them is getting badly beaten," added Rodman.[173]

"That must be the Skylark we see."

"I don't believe it is. It is so thick we can't make her out, but her sails look very white. I think it is the Sea Foam."

"There's the other!" exclaimed Norwood, as the Skylark was dimly perceived in the distance.

"She is half a mile astern. It is a bad beat for one of them."

"That's so; and if it is the Sea Foam, I shall want to throw up the contract for the Maud," said Rodman.

"There is one thing about it; both of those craft are good sea boats, and if they can carry whole jib and mainsail in this blow, they are just the right kind of yachts for me. I like an able boat, even if she don't win any prizes. Give me a stiff boat before a fast one."

"I should like to have mine both stiff and fast."

"Look at the Christabel. She went round the course with a reef in the fore and main sails, and was beaten at that," added Norwood. "Here comes the head boat. It is the Skylark, as sure as you live."

"Not much, Frank. Do you see her figure[174]-head? Is it a bird?" demanded Rodman, triumphantly.

"It isn't; that's a fact."

"That's the Sea Foam fast enough."

This was exciting news, and Sam Rodman walked rapidly to the companion-way of the Penobscot.

"Yachts in sight!" shouted he to the people below.

"Which is ahead?" asked Mr. Montague.

"The Sea Foam," replied Rodman.

"I'm so glad!" exclaimed Miss Nellie Patterdale.

Mr. Montague and Captain Patterdale only laughed, but they were sufficiently interested to go on deck in spite of the pouring rain, and they were followed by many others.

"Time!" shouted Sam Rodman, as the gun was fired.

"Four, thirty-two, ten," added Frank Norwood; and the figures were entered upon the schedule.

The Sea Foam passed the judges' yacht, came about, and went under her stern.

"The Sea Foam," shouted Donald.[175]

Though the spectators were not all satisfied with the result, they gave three cheers to the victorious yacht, magnanimously led off by Mr. Montague himself.

"Time!" called Sam, as the Skylark came into the range of the chimney on shore.

"Four, thirty-six, twelve," said Norwood.

The Skylark came about, and passed under the stern of the Penobscot, reporting her name. The judges went below, and figured out the result, by which it appeared that the Sea Foam had beaten the Skylark, after the correction for the three inches' difference in length, by three minutes fifty-nine and four tenths seconds.

Donald was the first to come on board of the Penobscot, and was generously congratulated on his decisive victory, especially by Mr. Montague, the father of the commodore. Robert followed him soon after, and every one was curious to know what he would say and do.

"Don John, you have beaten me," exclaimed he, grasping the hand of Donald. "You have done it fairly and handsomely, and I am ready to give up the first prize to the Sea Foam."

The party in the cabin of the Penobscot heartily applauded the conduct of the commodore.[176]

"You are very kind and generous, Bob," replied Donald, deeply moved by the magnanimity of the commodore.

"When I am whipped, I know it as well as the next man. The silver vase belongs to the Sea Foam."

"Not at all," protested Donald. "This last race was not for the vase, and you won the first one fairly."

"Of course the vase belongs to the commodore," added Rodman. "The judges have already awarded and presented the prizes."

This was the unanimous sentiment of all concerned, and Robert consented to retain the first prize.

"I say, Don John," continued the commodore, removing his wet coat and cap, "I want to have an understanding about the affair. While I own that the Skylark has been beaten, I am not so clear that the Sea Foam is the faster boat of the two."

"I think she is, commodore," laughed Donald; "though I believe I understand your position."

"We made an even thing of it till we came up with Turtle Head—didn't we?"[177]

"Yes, that's so. If either gained anything for the moment, he lost it again," replied Donald.

"Then, if we made exactly the same time to Turtle Head, it seems to me the merits of the two boats are about the same."

"Not exactly, commodore. You forgot that the Skylark has to give time to the Sea Foam—one and three-tenths seconds per mile; or about eight seconds from here to the Head."

"That's next to nothing," laughed Robert. "But I was a length ahead of you."

"I let you gain that, so that I could go to windward of you."

"You made your first point by running nearer to the rocks than I like to go, by which you cut off a little of the distance; and inches counted in so close a race."

"That's part of the game in sailing a race."

"I know that, and it's all perfectly fair. I lost half my time when the squall came. I thought it was going to be heavier than it proved to be."

"I threw the Sea Foam up into the wind when it came," said Donald.

"But you didn't drop your peak, and I lost two minutes in doing it. Now, Don John, I can put[178] my finger on the four minutes by which you beat me; and I don't think there is any difference between the two yachts."

"You forget the allowance."

"That's nothing. In all future regattas the result will depend more upon the sailing than upon the boats."

"I think you are quite right, Bob; and the fellow who makes the most mistakes will lose the race. But when the Maud is done she is going to beat you right along, if she has anything like fair play," laughed Donald.

"She may if she can," replied Robert.

The reputation of Ramsay & Son, boat builders, was greatly increased by the result of the race. If Edward Patterdale was a little mortified to have it demonstrated that the Sea Foam had lost the first prize by his own want of skill and tact in sailing her, he was consoled by the fact that Commodore Montague, who had the credit of being the best skipper in Belfast, had been beaten by his yacht. When the shower was over the party went on shore, and Donald hastened to the shop to attend to business. He found that his men had done a good day's work in his absence,[179] and he related to Kennedy all the particulars of the two races.

"It would have been a bad egg for you if you had not been present," said Kennedy, much interested in the story. "In these regattas the sailing of the yacht is half the battle, and these young fellows may ruin your reputation as a boat-builder, if you don't look out for them."

"When I heard Ned Patterdale say he was disappointed in the Sea Foam, I felt that our business was nearly ruined. I think I have done a good thing for our firm to-day."

"So you have, Donald; and when the Maud is finished, I hope you will sail her yourself in the first race she enters."

"I will, if Sam Rodman consents."

Donald paid off his men that night from the money received from Mr. Rodman. The next week he employed another hand, and worked diligently himself. Every day his mother came out to see how the work progressed, as she began to have some hope herself of the success of the firm of Ramsay & Son. Donald paid her all the fees he received for measuring yachts, and thus far this had been enough to support the family. She did[180] not inquire very closely into the financial affairs of the concern, and the active member of it was not very communicative; but she had unbounded confidence in him, and while he was hopeful she was satisfied.

It would be tedious to follow the young builder through all the details of his business. The frame of the Maud was all set up in due time, and then planked. By the first of August, when the vacation at the High School commenced, she was ready to be launched. All the joiner work on deck and in the cabin was completed, and had received two coats of paint. Mr. Rodman had paid a hundred dollars every week on account, which was more than Donald needed to carry on the work, and the affairs of Ramsay & Son were in a very prosperous condition.

On the day of the launch, the Yacht Club attended in a body, and all the young ladies of the High School were present. Miss Maud Rodman, with a bottle in her hand, had consented formally to give her own name to the beautiful craft. Nellie Patterdale was to be on deck with her, attended by Donald and Sam Rodman. The boarding at the end of the shop had been removed, to allow the[181] passage of the yacht into her future element. The ways had been laid down into the water, and well slushed. It was high tide at ten o'clock, and this hour had been chosen for the great event.

"Are you all ready, Mr. Kennedy?" asked Donald.

"All ready," replied the workman.

"Let her slide!" shouted the boat-builder.

A few smart blows with the hammers removed the dog-shores and the wedges, and the Maud began to move very slowly at first. Those on deck were obliged to stoop until the hull had passed out of the shop.

"Now stand up," said Donald, as the yacht passed the end of the shop; and he thrust a long pole, with a flag attached to the end, into the mast hole.

The boat increased her speed as she advanced, and soon struck the water with a splash.

"Now break the bottle, Maud," added Donald.

"I give this yacht the name of Maud," said Miss Rodman, in a loud tone, as she broke the bottle upon the heel of the bowsprit.

"Won't she tip over, Don John?" asked Nellie.

"Not at all; nearly all her ballast has been put[182] into her, and she will stand up like a queen on the water," answered Donald, proudly, as he realized that the launch was a perfect success.

Loud cheers from the crowd on shore greeted the yacht as she went into the embrace of her chosen element. The ladies waved their handkerchiefs, and the gentlemen their hats. Maud and Nellie returned the salute, and so did Sam Rodman; but Donald was too busy, just then, even to enjoy his triumph. As the hull slid off into the deep water, the boat-builder threw over the anchor, and veered out the cable till her headway was checked. The Maud rested on the water as gracefully as a swan, and the work of the day was done.

Hardly had the yacht brought up at her cable, when the Juno, in which Laud Cavendish had been laying off and on where he could see the launch, ran alongside of her.

"Keep off!" shouted Donald; "you will scrape her sides."

"No; hold on, Don John; I have a cork fender," replied Laud, as he threw his painter on board of the Maud. "Catch a turn—will you?"

"Don't let him come on board, if you can help[183] it," whispered Nellie Patterdale. "He is a terrible bore."

"I can help it," replied Donald, as, with a boat-hook he shoved off the bow of the Juno.

Then, for the first time, he observed that Laud had a passenger, a man whom he remembered to have seen before, though he did not think where.

"What are you about, Don John?" demanded Laud.

"Keep off, then," replied Donald. "We don't want