The St. Johns herald., 1899-01-14

hurled forward with his flying boat, he was making up for the failure of last year-he would win this time beyond doubt or disbelief. Already the tide in the pudding stones" was shouting vic tory in his ears. He laughed to it, and a voice came crying back. Thorne look ed around. He wondered If any of the other boys had heard it.
 The wind had veered into the east and was piling up the waves so that the 'crew' who lay for ballast along the starboard rail caught a glimpse now and then Of the "Fleetwing' staggering on behind. They saw and heard noth- , ing else.
 Again that faint call came to Thorne like the voice in the ripple of water. He bent and looked under the boom. Something was dancing toward the fla tai current round the pudding stones." Dancing like a thoughtless child. A wave lifted 1t nearer. It was a skiff and bit of white stuff futtered from the bow. Well, many boats came out to sea, why should Thorne notice this. Yes, many boats came-but not so far not skiffs-not with something white flying from the prov in terrified signal of distress-surely not with frightened cries for help-for mamma" and "papa" But why should Thorne stop to help. Dave was close behind him, so close that if he changed his course now enough to rescue the little skiff, he would be too late by the time he had come back and rounded the pudding stone" buoy on the starboard side. Dave would have passed him.
 A wave tossed the little craft on It's crest-another, and another, each wave nearer to the whirl of water over the rocks. ThOrne could see the spindle on the crag standing like warning finger. It was time to tack out around 1t and start on the last leg home. Again came that frightened, sobbing cry, so hope less and so lost. Thorne looked at his crew.
 "I say, Thorne, the 'Fleetwing seems to be gaining" called little Harley. we can't be losing now, eh?"
 Thorne's hand trembled on the wheel The rudder swayed. Slowly the shadow of the sail swung round over its cap tain. With a cry of amaZement the boys flung themselves into the lockpit. What on earth. Thorne; there's the buoy on the port hand"
 Thorne nodded to the drifting boat, already circling in the edge of the whirlpool.
 Get the boat hook, Harley, quick. Ease her off, Bob; there she comes, now then, that's it. There's no hurry, Har- ley, We can't win. Thank God, we saw them in time"
 Never mind, then, they'll find out who's won." he added, quietly, as long faint shout from the baffled "Fleet- wing" warned them that their course was seen.
 For as Joe eased the sheets to go about he saw the "Conqueror'' headed home, but with the pudding stone spin dle on the wrong side and he said in puzzled way: Do look at Thorne. will you; isn't he inside the markr'
 By love, so he is,p shouted Joe an grily. Gall him, boys, let him know we've seen him cheating"
 "Never mind, never mind," cried Dave, wait until We get home, the cheat. We'll settle with him then" Dave's heart swelled as he saw the hated black hull, its huge canvas taut, ripping through the rough sea as though 1t cared not stroke for honor. "Cowardw groaned Dave.
 What long hour that was. "But the race Is mine," said Dave, "Mine, mine, miner He repeated 1t. over and over, as he heard the far-of clamor of whis- ties and bells and horns when the Con Queror" crossed the lile.
 The angry blood flooded his cheeks and shook his voice as he touched the l pier. For even his father and mother were thers holding Thorne's hands and laughing ecstaticaily. And his two nt- l