Then they waved, and the
maroon and white flag stood out tense and defiant like some animate
thing.
Not a word was spoken by the girls. It seemed so important to pay
all attention to the machine upon which depended the loss or gain of
a victory--if we may say that a victory can be lost.
"Look out!" called Hazel suddenly and a boat crossed their path so
closely that Cora was obliged to throttle down, and Hazel had to run
straight for a buoy to avoid a collision, and the craft hit the
course marker. Then the Petrel stopped short! It simply wouldn't
move!
"Oh!" sighed Belle and Bess in one voice, but Cora jumped up and
tried for a spark. None came!
She looked at the connections. They seemed all right.
"Maybe it's in the gas," she said nervously, while the other boats
were passing them by.
She yanked down the bulkhead board that hid the gasoline tank. Then
she saw the cause of the trouble.
"Short circuited!" she exclaimed. "That happened when we struck
the buoy. It jarred the battery wires together," and the next
instant she had adjusted the difficulty and the engine, glad to be
off again, seemed to try to make up for the lost seconds.
Every one in the Petrel breathed a sigh of relief. The anxiety had
been intense.
"I was certainly afraid we would have to row to shore," Belle said,
taking a more comfortable position.
"We will make up for it," declared Cora, throwing on full speed and
directing Hazel as to the best way to hold the wheel exactly
straight and in doing so to get all possible distance out of each
explosion of the engine.
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