"Ha, ha, ha!" roared the others, in chorus, but Billy's voice cut in with:
"Drop fooling, you chaps. We ran into a bit of a squall just then, and I don't think we'll go any farther. A bit of a sea working up. Wind against us. We'd better slip back while our luck's in."
Accordingly the boat was worked around, and plugged into the choppy sea that stretched between the vessel and the college jetty.
A good four miles of water had to be traversed before they would arrive at their destination, and Billy, although he did not mention his qualms to his companions, felt more than a trifle nervous about the return journey.
The aspect of the sea had changed wonderfully since they had set out on their trip. Banks of cloud piled angrily up in the south, grey and threatening; and the wind was now undeniably vigorous. Moreover, the sea had risen; the waves were swift and vicious, jumping at the boat in just that manner that the expert boatman dislikes. Added to that was the fact that the boat was small and heavily-laden.
"Jiminy," said Jack, "we're in for a blow on the way back." As he spoke the wind whipped the crest off a wave ahead of them and sheeted it over the occupants of the boat. The sail jumped and the mast groaned, and as Billy tacked expertly the boat heeled over dangerously, and unquestionably, without the drop-keel, the whole concern would have capsized.
Gust after gust now smote the vessel, and it required all of Billy's admirable coolness and splendid skill to keep them on their course.
"I don't like the look of the sky," said Jack suddenly to his friend.
"Neither do I, old man," returned Billy seriously. "It's getting very dark, and there's rain in those clouds, or I'm no judge."
Presently the hands were at work bailing out the water, for, despite all of Billy's management, some seas were shipped, and the boat was hardly of the kind to afford to become much flooded. And, most dismaying sign of all, the going became worse as time went on. Beyond question, the gale was growing.