CHAPTER XVI

 Fighting fire

“Betty, do you think we can win?”

It was Mollie who asked this as she stood beside her chum at the wheel of the Gem.  The boat was churning through the water, gradually creeping up on the craft that had gotten away ahead of her.  Behind came other boats, starting as the crack of the official pistol was heard.

“Of course we’ll win!” exclaimed Betty, as she changed the course slightly.  She wanted to keep it as straight as possible, for well she knew that the shortest distance between any two points is in a straight line.

“We wouldn’t miss that lovely prize for anything,” called Grace from up forward, where she was helping Amy look after the laboring motor.

A number of prizes had been provided by the regatta committee; the chief one for this particular race was a handsome cut-glass bowl, that had been much admired when on exhibition at the club house.

The course was a triangular one of three miles, and now all the craft that were competing were on the last “leg” of the triangle.

“We’re creeping up on her!” whispered Amy, as she directed the attention of Grace to the boat just ahead of them.  It was a light, open affair, with a two-cylinder motor, but speedy, and two girls in it seemed to be working desperately over their machinery.  Something seemed to have gone wrong with one of the cylinders, for Betty could detect a “miss” now and then.

“Yes, we’re coming up,” admitted Grace, as she skillfully put a little oil on a cam shaft.  “If we can only hold out!”

“Oh, trust Betty for that.”

“It isn’t that—­ it’s the motor.  One never knows when they are not going to ‘mote.’  But this one seems to be coming on well,” and Grace glanced critically at the various parts.

They were well out in Rainbow Lake now, and many eyes were watching the race.  One of the last boats to get away had given up, for the girls in charge could not remedy the ignition trouble that developed soon after they started.  This left five.  The Gem was second in line, but behind her a very powerful boat was gradually creeping up on her, even as she was overhauling the boat that got away first.

“Can’t you turn on a little more gasoline?” asked Mollie.

“I think I can—­ now,” spoke Betty.  “I wanted to give it gradually.”

She opened the throttle a little more, and advanced the spark slightly.  The result was at once apparent.  The Gem shot ahead, and the girls in the leading boat looked back nervously.

“One of them is that pretty girl Will danced with so often at the ball,” said Mollie, as she got a glimpse of the rival’s face.

“Yes, and the other is her cousin, or something,” spoke Betty.  “I was introduced to her.  It’s mean, perhaps, to beat you, girls,” she whispered, “But I’m going to do it.”