Frank Merriwell's Athletes Part 13

He set Toots and Hans to hoisting the anchor, while Harry, Bart and Jack shook out the sails.

The jib was run up first, and then the mainsail was hoisted, Barney, who was a skillful sailor, having taken the helm.

Strange to say, it seemed as if the wind had been waiting for them to make sail, for it arose promptly and filled the sails so that the _Greyhound_ soon bore away on the starboard tack.

Out beyond the point the _Fox_, Lord Stanford's yacht, had felt the wind first, and was already tacking close under the northern sh.o.r.e.

Frank went aft and stood near Barney, while he watched the actions of the _Greyhound_ with no little anxiety.

He had no idea what sort of a boat he had purchased, and he could see that the Englishman's yacht had a rakish, saucy look, as if it might be able to show him a clean pair of heels in a fair breeze.

Under Frank's directions, the sails were trimmed and the _Greyhound_ close hauled, as he wished to see how near he could run to the wind without falling off.

Although the wind was unfavorable, as it was not steady, coming in gusts now and then, Frank waited till fair headway had been obtained, and then had Barney luff till the course was close into the wind, which was held long enough to convince him that the _Greyhound_ did not jibe easily.

"Good!" he exclaimed, with satisfaction. "I was afraid she might prove cranky. Hold her as close as you can, Barney, and not let her yaw. I believe she is a dandy against the wind. If she proves all right before the wind, we'll give Lord Stanford a hot little run of it."

CHAPTER VII-THE STORM

After a while Frank went below to examine the interior of the yacht. He found it very comfortable and well furnished with all necessities and not a few luxuries.

"She's a little boat," he said; "but she's a peach! There won't be any room to spare on board, but we'll manage to get along somehow. It is plain she was built for not more than five or six, and there are eight of us."

Bart Hodge came down.

"By Jove!" he said, dropping on a cushioned seat, "I am feeling better, don't you know. I hated to sail for Honolulu, and now we'll soon be so far from San Francisco that there'll not be much danger of arrest. I want to stick by you, Merry."

"And I hope we'll be able to hang together, old fellow," a.s.sured Frank.

"You have been beating about for yourself far too long."

"I know it-I can see it now. It's lucky you turned up just as you did, for I was going to the dogs."

Frank examined the wardrobe, and a cry of satisfaction came from him.

"Look here!" he exclaimed. "Here are a number of yachting suits. Perhaps we can dig out suits for all of us."

They overhauled the clothing, and Frank and Bart soon found suits which fitted them very well. In fact, Merriwell was so well built that he obtained a splendid fit, and remarkably handsome he appeared in the cap, short jacket and light trousers of a yachtsman.

"We are strictly in it," he smiled, surveying Bart. "I'll go on deck and send the others down for suits, while you remain here and a.s.sist them in the selections. I want to keep my eye on Lord Stanford, anyway."

So Frank ascended the companion way, and soon took Barney's place at the helm, sending him and Bruce below.

The boys were much surprised to see Merriwell appear in a yachting suit, and he explained that he had purchased everything on board the _Greyhound_, which included the suits in the wardrobe, as they plainly were not all Chandler's personal property, having been designed for men of different build.

"Vale, uf dot don'd peat der pand!" muttered the Dutch boy. "Uf dere peen a suit der lot in dot vill fit me, I vill show der poys vat a dandy sailors der Dutch makes. Yaw!"

Barney soon returned to the deck, having found a very good fit, but he said Bruce was having more difficulty.

"Begorra! there wur a fat mon on borrud, an' he's lift a suit thot will fit this Dutch chase," grinned the Irish lad.

"Why you don'd drop id callin' me dot names, Barney!" cried Hans. "I don't like dot, you pet!"

The other lads went below to see what they could find in the way of clothes as Frank sent them, Toots being the last.

Every boy found a suit, although in some cases the clothes were too loose. Hans came swelling on deck, wearing a suit with the legs of the trousers turned up several inches and the wrists of the coat sleeves rolled back.

"Say!" he grinned; "I vos a pird! Did you efer seen der peat me of now, I don't know?"

Toots had discovered an ordinary sailor's suit, with white anchors worked upon it, and he was proud as a peac.o.c.k.

The very first leg across had carried them out past Black Point, upon which Fort Mason frowned down upon them when they swung close under the sh.o.r.e and went about on the other tack.

At first the _Greyhound_ gained on the _Fox_, as Merry could see; but as Lord Stanford's yacht approached the open ocean she found a stronger breeze and danced along in a lively manner.

Other vessels were in the narrows, but there was plenty of room for them all.

Frank had brought a marine gla.s.s from below, and he used it to watch the _Fox_, having permitted Barney to take the helm again.

Merry could see Lord Stanford standing on the deck near the companion way, talking to one of his men. From the manner of the Englishman, it was apparent that he did not suspect he was being pursued.

"So much the better," muttered the new owner of the _Greyhound_. "If he does not catch on right away we may be able to overhaul him and lay alongside without being suspected."

He watched the _Fox_ till it shot out past Fort Point and disappeared beyond the point of land on which the fort was located.

"So they are bound southward," muttered Merry. "Ten to one they are going down the coast to Santa Cruz-possibly to Santa Barbara, although that is quite a cruise."

Half an hour later the _Greyhound_ ran out past Fort Point, and the _Fox_ was discovered far away along the coast, steadily bearing to the south.

"We're after you, my boy," muttered Frank. "I don't believe you'll be able to run away from us in a hurry."

There was a heavy swell on-an "old say," Barney called it. It was seen that the _Fox_ was rolling a great deal.

"They are sure to hug the coast pretty close," Merriwell decided. "I don't believe Lord Stanford cares about getting far from land in that boat. The _Greyhound_ will sail anywhere he can go."

It became a steady sail to the south, and Frank cracked on every st.i.tch of canvas, hoping to come up with the _Fox_ hand-over-hand. In this he was disappointed, although it was plain that they gained somewhat.

The afternoon sun sank lower and lower. Toots was appointed steward, and prepared a meal from the supply of provisions on board.

At sunset the _Fox_ was seen rounding a distant point of land and making into a bay.

"I rather think she means to stop there to-night," said Frank.

He examined the chart and decided that it was Half-moon Bay.