"A shade over a half a mile."
"Whew! And the race only a third run."
"In other words," went on the young captain, "the Rhinds boat is gaining
steadily on us at the rate of a quarter of a mile an hour. Not much,
yet enough to win the race beyond any dispute."
"Can't we catch up over that distance?" asked Jacob Farnum.
"Not now, anyway, sir."
Jack went back beside the wheel. Somehow, he did not feel like taking
the spokes into his own hands. Instead, he wheeled, silently, going
back, through the conning tower, and down to the engine room.
"How do we stand with the Rhinds craft?" asked David Pollard, who sat
on one of the cushioned seats in the engine room.
"Half a mile behind, sir."
Pollard got up slowly, then went through and up the stairs to the deck.
For some moments Hal and Jack talked together, in low tones. Both
looked rather glum, until Hal suggested something that sent a little
ray of hope into Benson's eyes.
"We'll see," muttered the young captain. "It looks like a forlorn hope,
though, Hal."
At the end of the third hour the "Zelda" had added another quarter mile
to the lead, while the "Oakland" showing the way, was a good mile ahead
of the foremost racer.
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