“Let her come,” says Mr. Robbins.
“Got enough anchor chain out? This anchorage, just on the edge of the channel, didn’t look any too secure to me,” says Mr. House.
“Oh, we’ll hold,” says Mr. Robbins.
Then it lightened, and the thunder sounded louder. Mr. House went up on deck to take a look, and nobody said anything while he was gone. I had that kind of a hungry feeling that always comes just as a thunder storm is coming up—kind of a lightness in the stomach, and a tingling all over. I’m not afraid of storms—but I can’t say I like them.
I kept my eyes on Catty, wondering what he was thinking about, and if he had any scheme in his head. He didn’t look to me as if he had anything in his head at all. Just kind of sleepy was the way he looked, and I felt sort of discouraged.
Pretty soon the storm burst, and it was a dandy. The wind came down with a roar, and thunder claps came so fast it sounded as if it was one big long one. We could feel the Porpoise roll and churn around, and things cracked and creaked. Flash came right on top of flash, and you’d think every one of them was hitting the water just outside. And then Mr. House yelled down the companionway:
“Hey, come up. We’re dragging.”
Mr. Robbins jumped up at that, and so did we. I was going to rush right up, but Catty grabbed my arm and hung on.
“Wait,” says he.
“What for?” says I.