"You've said it," rejoined Horace softly.
The curtain of rain lifted a little. The boys in the catboat had managed to reduce sail; but if she lost headway and fell into the trough between two waves, she might wallow over, and turn turtle entirely.
"He's trying to keep in the shelter of the island, isn't he?" Pudge asked.
"Trying to wear 'round the easterly point of it. The water'll be smooth there, and the island will break the force of the wind," Kirby replied. "Ah! Good for him! 'Atta boy!"
The fellow with the flying hair had tacked again--a move calling for much judgment and no little courage. When the boom went over it almost carried the craft upon her beam ends.
Her counter rose till the watchers could see the green water wash into the cockpit over the starboard rail.
But she righted, and before the rain-curtain shut down again the spectators saw that the boat was headed right for the sheltered point of the island.
"Say, you fellows," Ben objected, "this rain is no fun. I'm going to hustle for the camp."
"Me, too," agreed his cousin, clutching at the waistband of his trousers. "I wish I could find them buttons."
"We'll all go," Horace Pence said. "That boat will show up in the sound in half an hour--or she won't show up at all."
"She won't be swamped? Not as bad as that?" cried Pudge, somewhat worried.
"She'll pull through," said Horace more confidently.
"Of course," agreed Kirby. "I'd like to see that fellow close to," with increasing admiration. "The one sailing her I mean. He's some pilot, all right."
The heavily falling rain now shut out all view of the staggering catboat. How she fared could not be learned from the point where the quartette stood. They returned through the wood, the rain drumming sharply upon the leaves overhead.
As suddenly as it had swept down upon the catboat, the squall passed. But the veering wind drove the billows in from the open sea until, before it arrived in the shelter of the eastern point of Storm Island, the _Spoondrift_ was riding a series of rising waves that would have threatened the safety of a much larger craft.
Her centerboard, however, aided in keeping the boat on even keel. The coolness of her steersman, and his knowledge of how to handle a cat, did the rest. The wind, driving behind, threatened no danger once the craft was headed right. There were five young fellows aboard the _Spoondrift_. Four of them were lined up along the weather rail and hanging on for dear life. Their expressions of countenance were as varied as their characters.