"Yes, do. We'll write when we're settled."

Preparations for the race were going on, and the Gem, as were the other boats, was being groomed for the contest. She had been converted into her own self again, and Betty had engaged a man to look over the motor, and make a few adjustments of which she was not quite capable.

Uncle Amos came to Rainbow Lake to see the girls and the boat. He was not much impressed with the sheet of water, large as it was, but he did take considerable interest in the coming race, and insisted on personally doing a lot of work to the boat to get her "ship-shape."

So that when the Gem was ready to go to the starting line she was prepared to make the "try of her life," as Betty expressed it.

There were six boats in the cla.s.s that included the Gem. Some were about the same size, one was larger and one was smaller. In horse power they rated about the same, but some handicapping had been done by the judges. The Gem was to start four minutes after the first boat got away, and of course she would have to make up this time to win.

"But we can do it!" declared Betty, confidently.

As they were on their way to the starting line the girls noticed two boys rowing along the sh.o.r.e, looking intently as they proceeded.

"Say, you haven't seen a big green canoe, with an Indian's head painted in red on each end; have you?" asked one of the lads.

"No; why?" asked Grace.

"Someone took ours last night," spoke the other boy. "We were going in the races with it, too. It was a dandy canoe!" and he seemed much depressed.

"That's too bad," spoke Betty sympathetically. "If we see anything of your canoe we'll let you know."

"Just send word to Tom Cardiff, over at Shaffer's dock!" cried the elder boy eagerly. "There's a reward of two dollars for anyone who finds it."

"Poor fellows!" said Betty as they rowed off. "I'd give two dollars of my own now if we could find their canoe for them. They must be dreadfully disappointed. Well, shall we start?"

"Yes, let's get it over with," replied Grace, nervously.

Grace and Amy were selected to look after the motor, they having been "coached" by Uncle Amos for several days. They were to see that it did not lack for oil, and if anything got out of adjustment they could fix it. They would be stationed well forward in the cabin, and the bulkhead being removed, they could easily get at the machinery.

Betty and Mollie would be at the wheel. Aunt Kate declined to take part in the race, and Uncle Amos was not eligible under the rules, this being strictly a race for girls and women.

Several events were run off before the Cla.s.s B race was called. Then the boats, including the Gem, moved up, and were formally inspected to make sure that all the rules and regulations had been complied with.

No fault was found.

"Are you all ready?" asked the starter.

"Ready," was the answer, and the first boat shot away. It was nervous waiting for Betty and her chums-- those four minutes-- but they finally pa.s.sed.

"Ready?" asked the starter again.

"Ready," answered Betty, her voice trembling in spite of herself.

There was a sharp crack of the pistol, and the Gem shot ahead, as Betty let the clutch slip into place. The race was on!

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-gla.s.s 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."

The chugging of many motors-- the churning to foam of the blue waters of the lake-- a haze of acrid smoke hanging over all, as some cylinder did not properly digest the gasoline vapor and oil fed to it, but sent it out half consumed-- spray thrown up now and then-- the distant sound of a band-- eager eyes looking toward the stake buoys-- tense breathing-- all this went to make up the race in which our outdoor girls were taking part.

Foot by foot the Gem crept up on the Bug, which was the name of the foremost boat. Drop by drop Betty fed more gasoline to her striving motor. The other girls did their duty, if it was only encouragement.

Those in the Bug worked desperately, but it was not to be. The Gem pa.s.sed them.

"We're sorry!" called Betty, as she flashed by. The other girls smiled bravely.

The Gem was now first, but the race was far from won. They were on the last leg, however, but in the rear, coming on, and overhauling Betty and her chums as they had just overhauled the others, was the speedy Eagle. She had been last to get off, but had pa.s.sed all the others.

"They are after us," spoke Mollie, as she held the wheel a moment while Betty tucked under her natty yachting cap some wind-tossed locks of hair.

"But they shan't get us," declared the Little Captain grimly. "We haven't reached our limit yet."

Once more she gave more gasoline, but the rivals in the rear were settling down now to win the race for themselves. The Eagle came on rapidly. The finish line was near at hand, but it seemed that Betty and her chums had the upper hand.

Suddenly Grace cried:

"One of the wires is broken. It's snapped in two, and it's spouting sparks!"