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As well as could be judged, the Nettie B., Rosan, and _Herring

Bone_ were nearly on even terms twenty miles ahead, all with

every stitch set and flying like leaves before a wind.

"Bend on balloon jib!" snapped Schofield when he had considered

the task before him. Pete ran joyfully to execute the order, but

some of the men hesitated.

"Up with her!" roared Pete, and up she went, a great concave

hollow of white like the half of a pear. The Lass's head went

down, and now, instead of attempting to go over the waves, she

went through them without argument.

Tons of divided water crashed down upon her decks and roared off

over the rails, the men at the wheel were never less than

knee-deep. The sheets strained, the timbers creaked, and the

sails roared, and back of all were the wind and the North

Atlantic in hot pursuit.