and get as far ahead of him as you can, and see if we can't reach the
island [meaning Strawberry Island] before he does."

Frank accordingly turned the Speedwell's head toward the island, and
just at that moment the sail-boat came in sight. The Champion--for
that was her name--was classed among the swiftest sailers about
Lawrence; in fact, there was no sloop that could beat her. She was a
clinker-built boat, about seventeen feet long, and her breadth of
beam--that is, the distance across her from one side to the other--was
great compared with her length. She was rigged like Frank's boat,
having one mast and carrying a mainsail and jib; but as her sails were
considerably larger than those of the Speedwell, and as she was a much
lighter boat, the boys all expected that she would reach the island,
which the young skippers always regarded as "home" in their races,
long before the Speedwell. The Champion was sailed by two boys.
William Johnson, her owner, sat in the stern steering, and Ben. Lake,
a quiet, odd sort of a boy, sat on one of the middle thwarts managing
the sails. As soon as she rounded the lock, Harry Butler sprang to his
feet, and, seizing a small coil of rope that lay in the boat, called
out,

"Bill! if you will catch this line, we'll tow you."

"No, I thank you," answered William. "I think we can get along very
well without any of your help."

"Yes," chimed in Ben. Lake, "and we'll catch you before you are
half-way to the island."

"We'll see about that!" shouted George, in reply.