The young oarsman was not allowed to remain at the wheel long. Soon the captain of the Defender came up again and took charge.

“I see we have passed the Spray,” he said. “That’s a good one for you, Upton. Now we must keep ahead.”

After turning the wheel over to the captain, Jerry moved forward to where Harry and Frank Lee were standing.

In the meanwhile the gallant yacht was cutting the water like a razor. The breeze was stiff, and they were running free before it. Soon the Spray was almost out of sight behind them.

“This Defender is a great boat,” said Harry.

With the wind on the starboard quarter the Defender and the Spray reached along for over a mile at a six knots an hour gait.

Then the wind fell off to almost a calm.

“This is no good,” observed Jerry.

“Fortunes of racing,” laughed Harry.

“I would like to see another stiff breeze.”

“We may catch more than enough before we have finished,” put in Frank Lee.

The further on the two yachts went the lighter became the wind, and each in turn ran into “soft” spots, when balloon top-sails hung up and down idly.

But no matter how the wind came the Defender got along, leaving the Spray steadily behind.

It was a triangular course, of three miles to each side, and soon the first side was sailed.

The yachts wore around the first mark float, leaving it on the port hand.

Baby jib top-sails had been sent down before the rounding, and spinnaker poles were now ready for the balloon sail.

With booms well off to port, the Defender led the way to the second stretch.

Sharp work was done in handling the spinnaker, for just one minute after rounding this big balloon was set and pulling.

This was clever work, but the Spray sailors did fully as well, for they had their spinnaker on just as fast.

“Great Caesar!” ejaculated our hero, suddenly, “Look!”

Ashore the sky grew black and ominous, foreboding a coming squall.

The weather certainly looked bad, and it turned out worse than it looked.

Instead of wind, rain came on, and soon all on board the yachts were soaked.

“What do you think of that, Jerry?” asked Harry.

“We’re going to catch it and no mistake,” replied the young oarsman.

All hands on board saw the coming squall and looked at the captain for orders, but none came.

The yachts, favored by a strengthening breeze, were pushed on to meet that which was sure to come, and half-way over on the third stretch it came on hard and struck the Defender.

Bang! slash! went the sails and the gallant yacht swept well over on her side.

Again all looked to the captain, but he shook his head.

“Reckon he wants to see what she can stand,” whispered Jerry.

He was right. The captain, at the wheel, held the yacht up to it, and held her true.

On and on they went, the sky growing blacker and blacker as they proceeded.

Suddenly Jerry heard a crack like a pistol shot, and looking forward saw that the standing part of the bridle to the jib had parted. The seizing pulled out and away went the sheets.

The sail snapped and cracked loudly, and in a second more it carried away the club on the clew of the jib.

“There she goes!” yelled somebody.

Hardly had he uttered these words when the big sail split in half and hung flapping in the wind.

It was now utterly useless to the racing yacht.

A new sail must be set at once, but in that high wind who would bring the old sail in?

“I’ll volunteer!” cried Jerry, as he sprang forward, and Harry and Frank Lee came close on his heels.

The crew hung back for a moment, and in that time Jerry reached the flying sail.

He caught one end just as an extra heavy puff of wind came on, and in a twinkle he was dragged half overboard.

But now Harry and Frank Lee sprang to the rescue, and then the regular crew came forward. All worked like beavers, and soon the torn sail was taken off.

Six minutes later a new sail was in place, and on went the gallant Defender as speedily as before.

She carried herself well, and nothing was lost in that blow but the jib.

In the meanwhile the Spray could not stand the strain and ran on behind with all sails reefed.

“A great yacht,” said those on the other boats. And the Defender stock went away up.

The captain praised Jerry for the quickness with which he had taken hold of the torn sail and steadied it.

“A loose sail on board a racing craft is a dangerous thing,” he said, “for there is no telling how much damage it will do.”

The squall was of short duration, not lasting over seven minutes, if as long. It gathered strength as it worked off shore, and some of the pleasure boats received the full benefit of it.

As the Defender got within two miles of the finishing line the breeze fell off.

Still the gallant craft held her own.

“The finish is in sight!” cried Jerry, presently.

He was right. A mile more and the race would be over.

Those on board of the Spray did their best to haul up to the Defender.

The effort did not avail them, for the Defender gained steadily.

At last the line was crossed.

The Defender had won the race by a lead of over half a mile, and she received a rousing reception.

Steam whistles blew their mightiest, flags waved, and the crowd on the other boats shouted themselves hoarse.

It was a great day, and one never to be forgotten.

“That settles it,” said Harry. “The Defender is the champion yacht of the club.”

It was not long after this that the Whistler ran up and took Jerry and Harry on board. Old Jack Broxton had seen the race and was greatly pleased.

The boys resolved to anchor the Whistler off the upper shore of Long Lake that night.

“We’ll leave Jack in charge and take a trip down to Harmony Beach,” suggested Harry.

This suited Jerry, and by half past six the two boys were on board the open cars on their way to the great Summer resort. They enjoyed the ride very much, especially Jerry who had never been to the beach before. They visited the hotels and had supper, and then listened to a band concert.

It was after eleven o’clock before they were ready to return to the Whistler.

As they were making their way back to the cars Jerry caught Harry by the arm.

“Look! Look!”

Harry looked, and in a crowd of people saw Wash Crosby. Not far away stood Si Peters.

Both were swaggering around as if they had plenty of money and wanted everybody to know it.

“What shall we do?” asked Harry.

“I hardly know,” replied Jerry. “I feel certain in my mind that they robbed the Rockpoint Hotel in spite of what the detectives think.”

“So do I. But we can’t prove it.”

The two boys resolved to watch Peters and Crosby and try to overhear any private talk they might have.

Peters and Crosby entered a large music hall and sat down at one of the tables.

Motioning to Harry, our hero led the way to the side of the building.

A board was off, and by standing near the opening they could hear everything Si Peters and Wash Crosby said.