The
Gem lagged. The Eagle was in hot pursuit. Betty acted quickly.
"Put on those rubber gloves!" she ordered. "Take a pair of pliers, and
hold the ends of that wire together. That will make it as good as
mended until after the race. Amy, you help. But wear rubber gloves,
and then you won't get a shock. Quick, girls!"
The breaking of the wire threw one cylinder out of commission. The Gem
was one third crippled. There came a murmur from the pursuing boat.
There was a commotion in the forward engine compartment of Betty's
boat. This was caused by Grace and Amy seeking to repair the damage.
A moment later the resumption of the staccato exhaust of the motor
told that the break had been repaired-- temporarily, at least. The
boat shot ahead again, at her former speed, and only just in time, for
her rival was now on even terms with her.
"Oh, Betty, we can't do it!" Mollie said, pathetically. "We're going
to lose!"
"We are not! I've got another notch I can slip forward the gasoline
throttle, and here it goes! If that doesn't push us ahead nothing
will-- and---- "
"We don't get that cut glass," finished Mollie.
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